‘ Our little babe,’ each said,‘ shall be
Like unto thee’ —‘ Like unto thee!’
‘ Her mother's’ —‘ Nay, his father's’ —‘ eyes,’
‘ Dear curls like thine’ — but each replies,
‘ As thine, all thine, and nought of me.’
What sweet solemnity to see
The little life upon thy knee,
And whisper as so soft it lies,—
‘ Our little babe!’
For, whether it be he or she,
A David or a Dorothy,
‘ As mother fair,’ or‘ father wise,’
Both when it's‘ good,’ and when it cries,
One thing is certain,— it will be
Our little babe.