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NURSERY RHYMES.

A BABY'S FEET.

ALGERNON CHARLES SWINburne.

A BABY'S feet, like sea-shells pink,
Might tempt, should heaven see meet,
An angel's lips to kiss, we think,—
A baby's feet.

Like rose-hued sea-flowers toward the heat
They stretch and spread and wink.
Their ten soft buds that part and meet.

No flower-bells that expand and shrink
Gleam half so heavenly sweet,
As shine on life's untrodden brink,
A baby's feet.

A BABY'S HANDS.

ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBurne.

A BABY'S hands, like rosebuds furled,
Whence yet no leaf expands,

Ope if you touch, though close upcurled,—
A baby's hands.

Then, even as warriors grip their brands

When battle's bolt is hurled,

They close, clenched hard like tightening bands.

No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled
Match, even in loveliest lands,
The sweetest flowers in all the world,
A baby's hands.

NAE SHOON.

ANONYMOUS.

NAE shoon to hide her tiny tae,
Nae stocking on her feet;
Her supple ankles white as snaw,
Like early blossoms sweet.

Her simple dress of sprinkled pink,
Her double, dimpled chin,

Her puckered lips and balmy mou',
Wi' nae one tooth between.

Her e'en sae like her mither's e'en,
Twa gentle, liquid things;
Her face is like an angel's face,
We're glad she has nae wings.

She is the budding of our love,
A giftie God's gied us;
We munna love the gift o'erweel,
'Twad be nae blessing thus.

INFANT JOY.

WILLIAM BLAKE.

"I HAVE no name,

I am but two days old."
What shall I call thee?
"I happy am,

Joy is my name."
Sweet joy befall thee!

Pretty joy!

Sweet joy but two days old!

Sweet joy I call thee.

Thou dost smile,

I sing the while.
Sweet joy befall thee!

A CHILL.

CHRISTINA G. ROSETTI.

WHAT can lambkins do

All the keen night through? Nestle by their woolly mother, The careful ewe.

What can nestlings do

In the nightly dew?

Sleep beneath their mother's wing,

Till day breaks anew.

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