"His Sixth Birhday"
He has given up his cradle and his little worsted ball,
He has hidden all his dolls behind the door :
He must have a rocking-horse,
And a hardwood top of course,
For, he isn't mamma's baby any more.
He has cut off all his curls, they are only fit for girls.
And has left them on a heap upon the floor;
For he's six years old to-day,
And he's glad to hear them say
That he isn't mamma's baby any more.
He has pockets in his trousers, like his elder brother Jim;
Though he thinks he should have had them long before;
Has new shoes laced to the top,
'Tis a puzzle where they stop;
And he isn't mamma's baby any more.
He has heard his parents sigh, and has greatly wondered why
They are sorry, when he has such bliss in store;
For he's now their darling boy,
And will be their pride and joy,
Though he cannot be their baby any more.
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