I've seen some lovely sights, I think—
A rosebud bursting into pink,
A distant hill top drenched with gold,
A tree with all that it could hold
Of blossoms in the early spring—
But there can be no lovelier thing
Among the beauties Nature hath
Than little Janet in her bath.

Come upstairs now with me and see
Our baby on her mother's knee,
And watch this glad performance through—
A pretty sight I'll show to you!
Fairer than any landscape scene
Or silver brook or meadow green,
I'll show you dimpled legs and arms
And babyhood with all its charms.

I'm sorry for the man who hath
Not seen a baby in her bath,
For be he old and be he wise,
He does not know the charm which lies
In tiny bodies, plump and sweet
And little toes on rosy feet;
Nor does he know how fair to see
A baby in her bath can be.