To Market with him, though he sleep
Upon his mother's breast.
To market with him: I'll not keep
So insolent a pest.

Glib, unabashed, swift glancing, wild,
A monster void of shame;
His mother even fears her child
As one she cannot tame.

Sly-faced is he, with wings close pressed
And nails that scratch and smart;
While tears fall from his eyes distressed
A smile his lips will part.

So quick to market send him down
To see if one will buy.
Is any merchant leaving town?
Let him come here and try.

But no, I cannot sell him. See,
He begs with tears all wet.
Be not afraid: you'll stay with me
And be my Zeno's pet.