ETHEL.
Little sky-waif, come astray
Twice twelve months ago to-day!
What a world of joy is thine!
What a glow of summer shine
Cheers the house wherein thou art,
Sly magician of the heart!
In those large, those azure eyes,
All the splendour of the skies,
All the beauty that belongs
To the poet’s sweetest songs,
All the wisdom known and lost
That the wisest sage could boast,
Beam and lure and half reveal
Secrets that the gods conceal.
See those ringlets all unshorn
That her pretty neck adorn;—
Golden hues and silken gloss
On the charméd air they toss
Sun-gleams in a starry spray.—
Dearest little laughing fay!
See her tiny feet beat time,
In an ecstasy of rhyme,
To the pearly notes that win
From the speaking violin.
See her fingers, dimpled, white,
Mimic with a grave delight
Those that wonderingly she sees
Race along the ivory keys.
Hear her prattle, indistinct;—
Much we guess at, still we think
It may be some long lost speech
That she fondly strives to teach,—
Language known to airy things,
It may chance, whose spirit wings
In a merry mischief keep
Little human elves from sleep.
Ask her father, ask her mother,
They will vouch there is no other,
Never was on land or sea
Such a charming girl as she.
Surely they who know her best
Must the simple truth attest;
But if further proof you seek,
Let her solemn grandpa speak.—
He a mighty oath will swear,
By the silver in his hair!
By his sober-sided muse!
All good people needs must choose
Make confession, that for grace,
Loveliness of form and face,
Ways so simple, yet so wise,
Large-eyed Ethel takes the prize.