Classic Poem

When nurse is out, and mother too,
We have a lark, Babette and I;
We do the things we shouldn't do,
All training rules defy.

We rockaby—that's very wrong,
It leads to heaven knows what ill;
And while I hum an ancient song
She listens, very still:

Lord Bateman was a noble lord,
A noble lord he was of high degree;
And he determ-in-ed to go abroad,
To go strange countries for to see.

To rockaby is very wrong;
Babette, you should be lying flat.
And you should cry—it makes you strong,
And keeps off too much fat.

To rock like this, and dance on knee,
Too much excites your growing mind.
Some day you'll realize that we
Were cruel to be kind.

Lord Bateman was a noble lord,
A noble lord he was of high degree;
And he determ-in-ed to go abroad,
To go strange countries for-r-r-r to-o-o see-e-e.