Comes the little Catkin-head

(For she surely boasts some fair

Down or beech-leaf coloured hair

Your endowing aspects taught her,

His and yours, this first-born daughter)

Think how many, blessed two,

Babe and mother, prayed for you.

And when you hold appeased and warm

The Dear and Greedy on your arm,

Or laugh among the pillows piled,

All-sufficient to your child,

Pray sometimes for all exiled

(And maybe wistful) from these good

Earliest days of Motherhood.