Bryan Waller Procter

(1787-1874 / England)

The New-Born Baby's Song - Poem by Bryan Waller Procter

When I was twenty inches long,

I could not hear the thrush's song;

The radiance of the morning skies

Was most displeasing to my eyes.

For loving looks, caressing words,

I cared no more than sun or birds;

But I could bite my mother's breast,

And that made up for all the rest.

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Comments about The New-Born Baby's Song by Bryan Waller Procter

  • (4/21/2018 12:36:00 PM)

    Another bloke nicking this from Frances Cornford (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, September 14, 2010

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