Little Girls Must Not Fret
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 knowMamma cannot love little girls that are so.
She shall soon go to bed and forget it all thereAh! 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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