English poem
Teething
by Maria Arthington (?–1863)
Babies, when cutting teeth, oft cry, And bite their little thumbs; Aught they can seize, they'll often try To carry to their gums.
Some people give them coral bright With bells all hung together; And some will give them glass to bite, Or ivory, or leather.
But things that are so hard as glass Mamma approves of never; They grieve and hurt poor babes, alas! And make them worse than ever.
A nurse should then be very kind In finding what will please, A crust of bread, if they're inclined, Will nourish and not tease.
Their diet should be thought of too, With care about their dress: Lancing, when teeth are nearly thro,' Makes babies suffer less.