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The Cunnin' Little Thing
by Eugene Field (1850-1895)

When baby wakes of mornings,
   Then it 's wake, ye people all!
               For another day
               Of song and play
   Has come at our darling's call!
And, till she gets her dinner,
She makes the welkin ring,
And she won't keep still till she 's had her fill---
   The cunnin' little thing!

When baby goes a-walking,
   Oh, how her paddies fly!
               For that 's the way
               The babies say
   To other folk "by-by";
The trees bend down to kiss her,
   And the birds in rapture sing,
As there she stands and waves her hands---
   The cunnin' little thing!

When baby goes a-rocking
   In her bed at close of day,
               At hide-and-seek
               On her dainty cheek
   The dreams and the dimples play;
Then it 's sleep in the tender kisses
   The guardian angels bring
From the Far Above to my sweetest love---
   You cunnin' little thing!

 

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