98
poems.
I kiss once more her dimpled check,
As fair as earth's bright morn;
I catch a glimpse of sunny curls,
I turn—but she is gone.
And now her little tiny feet
Are tripping through the dance,
And looking up in roguish glee,
Her sparkling blue eyes glance.
As fair as earth's bright morn;
I catch a glimpse of sunny curls,
I turn—but she is gone.
And now her little tiny feet
Are tripping through the dance,
And looking up in roguish glee,
Her sparkling blue eyes glance.
O Fannie! joyous, happy child!
Dance on in childhood's hour;
Let Love and Friendship, Truth and Grace,
Bequeath their lowly dower;
Drink thou ever at those fountains—
Ever drain their golden cup;
And when thy hour to die draws near,
"May the angels take thee up."
Dance on in childhood's hour;
Let Love and Friendship, Truth and Grace,
Bequeath their lowly dower;
Drink thou ever at those fountains—
Ever drain their golden cup;
And when thy hour to die draws near,
"May the angels take thee up."
