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Before the baby came our plans were laid—
" Let's call her Mary—true, there's William's girl.
But who'd mistake his pebble for our pearl ?
Then all her aunts in rivalry arrayed.
As would-be Godmothers, will serenade,
Her lips ; her eyes ; her nose; some one wee curl 1"
At each new thought our brains were in a whirl.
We never doubted, felt no whit afraid
Of fickle fortune, so the Fates forgot
No single grace we'd asked them to supply;
Lips, eyes, and nose were fashioned to decoy
Female idolators about the cot
In hundreds I But our ointment held one fly—
Her sex was muddled somehow—She's a Boy I

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