Her limbs were beautifully straight.
I stopped th’ enchantress, and was told,
Though tall, she was but four years old.
Her guide so grave an aspect wore
I could not ask a question more—
But followed her. The little one
Threw backward ever and anon
Her lovely neck, as if to say,
I know you love me, Mister Grey.
For, by its instinct, childhood’s eye