When I was twenty inches long, <br />I could not hear the thrush's song; <br />The radiance of the morning skies <br />Was most displeasing to my eyes. <br /> <br />For loving looks, caressing words, <br />I cared no more than sun or birds; <br />But I could bite my mother's breast, <br />And that made up for all the rest.<br /><br />Barry Cornwall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-new-born-baby-s-song/
