A THIEF

You naughty, naughty, naughty rogue,
To steal those pretty eggs!

I’m glad to see you pricked your hands
And scratched your wicked legs.

I never thought my chubby son
Would like to join those thieves

Who rob the houses of the birds
Among the thorns and leaves.

These lovely ovals all belong
To nightingales, not you ;

Suppose thieves robbed your nursery
Of Rose and Dick and Sue—
Suppose they came when Dad was out,

And found my cosy nest,
Just think of Mother’s streaming eyes
And Father’s aching breast !