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

The New-Born Baby's Song



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.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
J Montefiore 21 April 2018

Another bloke nicking this from Frances Cornford

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