Frederick Locker-Lampson

The hair she means to have is gold,
Her eyes are blue, she's twelve weeks old,
Plump read more

The hair she means to have is gold,
Her eyes are blue, she's twelve weeks old,
Plump are her fists and pinky.
She fluttered down in lucky hour
From some blue deep in yon sky bower--
I call her "Little Dinky."

Cinderella's lefts and rights
To Geraldine's were frights,
And I trow
The damsel, deftly read more

Cinderella's lefts and rights
To Geraldine's were frights,
And I trow
The damsel, deftly shod,
Has dutifully trod
Until now.

A tight little bundle of wailing and flannel,
Perplex'd with the newly found fardel of life.

A tight little bundle of wailing and flannel,
Perplex'd with the newly found fardel of life.

Remember, cobbler, to keep to your leather.
[Lat., Memento, in pellicula, cerdo, tenere tuo.]

Remember, cobbler, to keep to your leather.
[Lat., Memento, in pellicula, cerdo, tenere tuo.]

Oh, where did hunter win
So delicate a skin
For her feet?
You lucky read more

Oh, where did hunter win
So delicate a skin
For her feet?
You lucky little kid,
You perished, so you did,
For my sweet.