Tired by her flight from Paradise
The baby shut her wondering eyes,
Nor knew that 'round the cradle stood,
To bless the babe, three Fairies good.
The First bent over the cradle head;
"These are my gifts to her," she said:
"A sunny nature, a voice of song,
And may faithful friends uncounted throng!"
The Second murmured in accents low:
"The path will be steep and rough, I know,
"So I give her a heart that is brave and strong,
That will patiently work, though the way be long;
"And though life may fill them with toil and care
Her hands shall weaker ones' burdens share."
Then stood the Third for a moment's space
To thoughtfully gaze on the baby face,
And over her own a radiance came
As she softly said: "My gift is a name.
"Though born while the earth lies spread with
snow
The babe is a summer-child, and so