Oh dear, where is the Baby gone?
I can't tell where I missed him;
Why only last night in his crib
I tucked him safe and kissed him!
This boy, with marbles, top and ball,
In knickerbockers dressed,
This cannot be the baby small
I cradled in my breast.
I wanted the weenty teenty thing
In dresses soft and white,
That I could cuddle, kiss, and sing
Soft by-lows to at night.
But stay--here are the self-same eyes,
His very dimpled chin,
These are his rosy pouting lips
With milk-white teeth within.
This is my Baby.--But how changed!
I hear his merry shout
As he goes sliding down the stair,
And dancing in and out;
Splashing and dashing through the brook,
With brow and check of tan.
Heigho! My baby's gone; instead
I see,--a little man.
Ah well, when evening comes again
With sleep and story-time,
A little white-gowned form will come
Into my lap to climb;
His wee head cradled on my heart
Will still this yearning pain.
O then I'll know that I have found
My baby-boy again!