A Human Baby’s like a sailor washed up on a beach
By the battering of the surf, naked, lacking the power
Possessing no mean of survival, when first Nature pours
Him forth with birth-pangs from his mother’s womb
upon Light’s shores.
He fills the room up with his sorrowful squalls, and
rightly so! –
Just think what lies in store for him, Life’s full supply of woe.