Baby Bell

III

O Baby, dainty Baby Bell,

How fair she grew from day to day!
What woman-nature filled her eyes,
What poetry within them lay-
Those deep and tender twilight eyes,
So full of meaning, pure and bright
As if she yet stood in the light
Of those oped gates of Paradise.
And so we loved her more and more:
Ah, never in our hearts before

Was love so lovely born:

We felt we had a link between
This real world and that unseen-
The land beyond the morn;

And for the love of those dear eyes,
For love of her whom God led forth,
(The mother's being ceased on earth
When Baby came from Paradise,)—
For love of Him who smote our lives,
And woke the chords of joy and pain,

We said, Dear Christ!—our hearts bowed down
Like violets after rain.

IV

And now the orchards, which were white
And pink with blossoms when she came,
Were rich in autumn's mellow prime;
The clustered apples burnt like flame,
The folded chestnut burst its shell,

The grapes hung purpling, range on range;
And time wrought just as rich a change

In little Baby Bell.

Her lissome form more perfect grew,

And in her features we could trace,

In softened curves, her mother's face.
Her angel-nature ripened too:
We thought her lovely when she came,
But she was holy, saintly now
Around her pale angelic brow
We saw a slender ring of flame.

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V

God's hand had taken away the seal
That held the portals of her speech;
And oft she said a few strange words
Whose meaning lay beyond our reach.
She never was a child to us,

We never held her being's key;
We could not teach her holy things
Who was Christ's self in purity.

VI

It came upon us by degrees,
We saw its shadow ere it fell—

The knowledge that our God had sent
His messenger for Baby Bell.

We shuddered with unlanguaged pain,
And all our hopes were changed to fears,
And all our thoughts ran into tears
Like sunshine into rain.

We cried aloud in our belief,

"Oh, smite us gently, gently, God!
Teach us to bend and kiss the rod,
And perfect grow through grief."
Ah! how we loved her, God can tell;
Her heart was folded deep in ours.
Our hearts are broken, Baby Bell!

VII

At last he came, the messenger,
The messenger from unseen lands:
And what did dainty Baby Bell?
She only crossed her little hands,
She only looked more meek and fair!

We parted back her silken hair,

We wove the roses round her brow

White buds, the summer's drifted snow—
Wrapped her from head to foot in flowers.

And thus went dainty Baby Bell

Out of this world of ours.

Thomas Bailey Aldrich [1837-1907]

IN THE NURSERY

MOTHER GOOSE'S MELODIES

MISTRESS MARY, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With cockle-shells, and silver bells,
And pretty maids all in a row.

THERE was an old woman who lived in a shoe,
She had so many children she didn't know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread;
Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.

PETER, Peter, pumpkin eater,
Had a wife and couldn't keep her;
He put her in a pumpkin shell
And there he kept her very well.

RUB-a-dub-dub,

Three men in a tub,

And who do you think they be?

The butcher, the baker,

The candlestick-maker;

Turn 'em out, knaves all three!

I'LL tell you a story
About Jack a Nory-

And now my story's begun;

I'll tell you another

About Johnny, his brother

And now my story is done.

HICKORY, dickory, dock,

The mouse ran up the clock;
The clock struck one,

The mouse ran down,
Hickory, dickory, dock.

A DILLAR, a dollar,

A ten o'clock scholar,

What makes you come so soon?
You used to come at ten o'clock
But now you come at noon.

THERE was a little man,

And he had a little gun,

And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead; He shot Johnny Sprig

Through the middle of his wig,

And knocked it right off his head, head, head.

THERE was an old woman, and what do you think?
She lived upon nothing but victuals and drink:
Victuals and drink were the chief of her diet:
Yet this little old woman could never be quiet.

She went to a baker to buy her some bread,
And when she came home, her husband was dead;
She went to the clerk to toll the bell,

And when she came back her husband was well.

IF I had as much money as I could spend,

I never would cry old chairs to mend;
Old chairs to mend, old chairs to mend;
I never would cry old chairs to mend.

If I had as much money as I could tell,
I never would cry old clothes to sell;
Old clothes to sell, old clothes to sell;
I never would cry old clothes to sell.

Mother Goose's Melodies

ONE misty, moisty morning,
When cloudy was the weather,
I met a little old man

Clothed all in leather;
He began to compliment,
And I began to grin,-

How do you do, and how do

you do,

And how do you do again?

If all the world were apple-pie,
And all the sea were ink,

And all the trees were bread and cheese,

What should we have to drink?

PEASE-PUDDING hot,

Pease-pudding cold,

Pease-pudding in the pot,

Nine days old.

Some like it hot,

Some like it cold,

Some like it in the pot,

Nine days old.

HEY, diddle, diddle,

The cat and the fiddle,

The cow jumped over the moon;

The little dog laughed

To see such sport,

And the dish ran away with the spoon.

LITTLE Jack Horner sat in the corner

Eating a Christmas pie;

He put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum,
And said, "What a good boy am I!"

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