Little Nincteen-Twenty-Five, Axe you glad you are alive? Fate and Tosy ae a fay, Celebrate your natal day Stil, no mortal may surmise What you hide behind your eye. Is there just a hint of guile In your ivinsome baby smile? Ave soa wiser than you seem? Are you fall of craft and, scheme? Gan "babe so tender be Full of wicked sophistry?
When the Old Year, sere and dry, Little New Year, passed you by, id you from the Future's brink Give lunn just one naughty wink? maser
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.