  He's so chubby and happy and wonderful, Dainty and perfectly made, That when he kicks at the sunbeams there, Out on the grass in his cradle chair, Somehow I feel afraid. We ought to hide him away, I think, Real beauty was always a bane, If the gods get to know of his baby wiles, Of his firm round limbs, or his magic smiles, They'll want him back again. WHISPER! Hush, you! Hush! I think I hear Just a little noise of humming! If you see him waiting near Please don't whisper him we're coming! |
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