A Baby In The House

I knew that a baby was hid in that house,
Though I saw no cradle and heard no cry;
But the husband was tip-toeing 'round like a mouse,
And the good wife was humming a soft lullaby;
And there was a look on the face of the mother,
That I knew could mean only one thing, and no other.

The mother, I said to myself, for I knew
That the woman before me was certainly that;
And there lay in a corner a tiny cloth shoe,
And I saw on a stand such a wee little hat;
And the beard of the husband said, plain as could be,
'Two fat chubby hands have been tugging at me.'

And he took from his pocket a gay picture-book,
And a dog that could bark, if you pulled on a string;
And the wife laid them up with such a pleased look;
And I said to myself, 'There is no other thing
But a babe that could bring about all this, and so
That one thing is in hiding somewhere, I know.'

I stayed but a moment, and saw nothing more,
And heard not a sound, yet I know I was right;
What else could the shoe mean that lay on the floor,
The book and the toy, and the faces so bright;
And what made the husband as still as a mouse?
I am sure, very sure, there's a babe in that house.

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Other poems of WHEELER WILCOX (563)

Comments (4)

A beautiful poem with amusing depiction. Congratulations to his soul for being selected as the poem of the day.
'Too old to love, too wise to heed your vow, Too cold to feel your cold hand upon my breast. is so beautiful. A poem I would like to read again and again. Thanks for posting.
When I am old, and cold, and wise, and grown As far beyond as you outstrip me now, - Too old to love, too wise to heed your vow.... //.... Romanticism merged in reality presents a sad picture. Thanks.
Such an enjoyable poem to read......