| Author |
Quotes |
| Bible | Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength because of thine enemies, that thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger. |
| Bible | Rock-bye-baby on the tree top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock. When the bough bends the cradle will fall, Down comes the baby, cradle and all. |
| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | O child! O new-born denizen Of life's great city! on thy head The glory of morn is shed, Like a celestial benison! Here at the portal thou dost stand, And with thy little hand Thou openest the mysterious gate Into the future's undiscovered land. |
| James Russell Lowell | He seemed a cherub who had lost his way And wandered hither, so his stay With us was short, and 'twas most meet, That he should be no delver in earth's clod, Nor need to pause and cleanse his feet To stand before his God: O blest word--Evermore! |
| John Keble | Sweet is the infant's waking smile, And sweet the old man's rest-- But middle age by no fond wile, No soothing calm is blest. |
| Margaret Eytinge | When you fold your hands, Baby Louise! Your hands like a fairy's, so tiny and fair, With a pretty, innocent, saintlike air, Are you trying to think of some angel-taught prayer You learned above, Baby Louise. |
| Ralph Hodgson | The morning that my baby came They found a baby swallow dead, And saw a something hard to name Fly mothlike over baby's bed. |
| Richard Gall | Baloo, baloo, my wee, wee thing. |
| Samuel Lover | A baby was sleeping, Its mother was weeping. |
| Samuel Lover | Her beads while she numbered, The baby still slumbered, And smile in her face, as she bended her knee; Oh! bless'd be that warning, My child, thy sleep adorning, For I know that the angels are whispering with thee. |
| Thomas Bailey Aldrich | Have you not heard the poets tell How came the dainty Baby Bell Into this world of ours? |
| Thomas Campbell | Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps; Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps; She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies, Smiles on her slumbering child with pensive eyes. |
| William Blake | Sweet babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles. |
| William Cox Bennett | Oh those little, those little blue shoes! Those shoes that no little feet use. Oh, the price were high That those shoes would buy, Those little blue unused shoes! |
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