When I was twenty inches long,
I could not hear the thrush's song;
The radiance of the morning skies
Was most displeasing to my eyes.
For loving looks, caressing words,
I cared no more than sun or birds;
But I could bite my mother's breast,
And that made up for all the rest.
More verses by Barry Cornwall
- A Petition To Time
- The Blood Horse
- Sit Down, Sad Soul
- The Sea
- Song (Here's A Health To Thee, Mary...)