Robert sits up with his rattle and toys,
Making a beautiful jingling noise.
So little he is, he doesn’t yet know
Which is the way that his hands ought to go.
Robert’s a darling, and Robert’s a dear,
He is so cunning, and he is so queer,
Tries to eat fingers, and talks to the light,
Doesn’t quite know the day from the night.
Rattles, and spool-chains, and round rubber rings,
Kissings and jumpings, and such kind of things,
Laughing, and cooing, and kicking his toes,
This is about all that baby Rob knows.
Bobbity-bobbity goes Robert’s head,
When mama carries him off to his bed.
Google-goo-goo—that is all he can say,
He’ll know just as much as you some day.