WHAT is it that makes little Emily cry? <br />Come then, let mamma wipe the tear from her eye: <br />There–lay down your head on my bosom–that's right, <br />And now tell mamma what's the matter to-night. <br /> <br />What! Emmy is sleepy, and tired with play? <br />Come, Betty, make haste then, and fetch her away; <br />But do not be fretful, my darling; you know <br />Mamma cannot love little girls that are so. <br /> <br />She shall soon go to bed and forget it all there– <br />Ah! here's her sweet smile come again, I declare: <br />That's right, for I thought you quite naughty before. <br />Good night, my dear child, but don't fret any more.<br /><br />Ann Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/little-girls-must-not-fret-2/
