Sleep, darling son, whom all admire

Sleep, darling son, whom all admire

As image of thy noble sire;

A strong resemblance thou canst claim,

And yet the nose is not the same.

Today thy sire stood by the bed,

And bending o'er thy face, he said,

"His eyes and ears are quite as fine,

But ah, the nose is not like mine."

Though I confess thy nose is small,

Thy sire's it must be after all.

If 'tis not his, pray tell to me,

Whose nose, in wonder, can it be?

Sleep on, my child, and take thy rest;

Thy father only spake in jest.

The nose is but a trifling part

So thou hast all thy father's heart.