Page:Poems Eaton.djvu/23

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My Namesake.
9
My baby-bird, my namesake,
Months many have flown by,
Since last I looked the depths within
Of thy clear earnest eye,
And saw the dawning intellect
On infant brow enrolled;
My precious little namesake
Of scarcely two years old.

My winsome fairy namesake,
Endowed with rarest grace,
Methought I saw an angel's charms
While gazing in thy face;
Or watching with admiring eye
Thy form of beauty's mould;
My lovely little namesake
Of scarcely two years old.

Thy silvery voice, my namesake,
Dearer than music's tone,
Comes sweetly as a dream to those
Who claim thee for their own—
Who love thee with enduring love,
With hearts that ne'er grow cold,
My happy, petted namesake
Of scarcely two years old.