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Ann Taylor - Little Girls Must Not Fret
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WHAT is it that makes little Emily cry? 
Come then, let mamma wipe the tear from her eye: 
There–lay down your head on my bosom–that`s right,
And now tell mamma what`s the matter to-night. 

What! Emmy is sleepy, and tired with play? 
Come, Betty, make haste then, and fetch her away; 
But do not be fretful, my darling; you know
Mamma cannot love little girls that are so. 
 
She shall soon go to bed and forget it all there–
Ah! here`s her sweet smile come again, I declare:
That`s right, for I thought you quite naughty before. 
Good night, my dear child, but don`t fret any more.
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