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Charles Lamb - The New-Born Infant
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Whether beneath sweet beds of roses,
As foolish little Ann supposes,
The spirit of a babe reposes
  Before it to the body come;
Or, as philosophy more wise
Thinks, it descendeth from the skies,—
  We know the babe`s now in the room


And that is all which is quite clear
Even to philosophy, my dear.
  The God that made us can alone
Reveal from whence a spirit`s brought
Into young life, to light, and thought;
  And this the wisest man must own.


We`ll now talk of the babe`s surprise,
When first he opens his new eyes,
  And first receives delicious food.
Before the age of six or seven,
To mortal children is not given
  Much reason; or I think he would


(And very naturally) wonder
What happy star he was born under,
  That he should be the only care
Of the dear sweet-food-giving lady,
Who fondly calls him her own baby,
  Her darling hope, her infant heir.
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