THE BABY'S CLOTHES.

By Matthew W. Alderson

Let poets praise, as in days gone by,

The wealth of a loving maiden's sigh;

The bliss ecstatic of every bride,

And honeymoon pleasures that ne'er subside;

I sing of a happier time than those,

The time when making the baby's clothes.

A girlish heart may o'erflow with joy

When with the one she would call “her boy,”

And a doting wife may fail to cloy

A heart kept free from every alloy;

But joys surpassing the sweetest of those

Come when preparing the baby's clothes.