When I was twenty inches long,
I could not hear the thrush's song;
The radiance of the morning skies
Was most displeasing to my eyes.

For loving looks, caressing words,
I cared no more than sun or birds;
But I could bite my mother's breast,
And that made up for all the rest.

Francis Macdonald Cornford

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-new-born-baby-s-song-2/