Burton Egbert Stevenson,
The Home Book of Verse — Volume 1
“ RHYME OF ONE You sleep upon your mother's breast, Your race begun, A welcome, long a wished-for Guest, Whose age is One. A Baby-Boy, you wonder why You cannot run; You try to talk—how hard you try!— You're only One. Ere long you won't be such a dunce: You'll eat your bun, And fly your kite, like folk who once Were only One. You'll rhyme and woo, and fight and joke, Perhaps you'll pun! Such feats are never done by folk Before they're One. ”
