Lightly they hold him and lightly they sway him- <br />Soft as a pillow are somebody's arms. <br />Down he goes slowly, ever so lowly <br />Over the rim of the cradle they lay him- <br />Baby's first journey is free from alarms. <br /> <br /> <br />Baby is growing while Mama sings by-lo, <br />Sturdy and rosy and laughing and fair, <br />Crowing and growing past every one's knowing, <br />Out goes the cradle and in comes the 'high-lo,' <br />Baby's next journey is into this chair. <br /> <br /> <br />Crying or cooing or waking or sleeping, <br />Baby is ever a thing to adore. <br />Look at him yonder-oh what a wonder, <br />Who would believe it, the darling is creeping, <br />Baby's next journey is over the floor. <br /> <br /> <br />Sweeter and cuter and brighter and stronger, <br />Mama can see every day how he's grown. <br />Shoes are all battered, stockings all tattered, <br />Oh! but the baby is baby no longer <br />Look at the fellow-he's walking alone!<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/baby-s-first-journey/
