And casting a startled and wild look around,
It nestled again in an infantile doze,
While I carried it home to fire and food,
Dressed it more cleanly, less common and rude.
A sweet little girl, fat, rosy, and fair,
By Nature’s endowments all any could crave,
With gentle blue eyes and light downy hair
(On a snowy broad brow), inclining to wave;
In form sweetly perfect, in face near divine;
For such do our wealthy ones daily repine.