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.