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And next we have a darling one; a sprite not two years old,
With soft blue eyes and skin of snow, and locks of molten gold.
With many a merry frolic and many a winning way,
She steals the hearts of all around, and smiles the livelong day;
A pet and plaything is she, to young and old most dear,
And her silvery voice keeps ringing on, like music in our ear.
Soft and loving is that little soul, if soon with anger swelled;
Yet a word or look will melt to tears, and all her wrath is quelled.
My precious one! through all thy life God keep thee as thou art,
As free from every earthly stain, as pure and true of heart.
With soft blue eyes and skin of snow, and locks of molten gold.
With many a merry frolic and many a winning way,
She steals the hearts of all around, and smiles the livelong day;
A pet and plaything is she, to young and old most dear,
And her silvery voice keeps ringing on, like music in our ear.
Soft and loving is that little soul, if soon with anger swelled;
Yet a word or look will melt to tears, and all her wrath is quelled.
My precious one! through all thy life God keep thee as thou art,
As free from every earthly stain, as pure and true of heart.
And last of all a baby boy, upon whose fair young head
Eight fleeting moons have scarcely yet their silver lustre shed;
With dark blue eyes, and sweetest smile, and face so passing fair,
That the germ of all most noble seems e'en now reflected there.
Oh, cherished child! God grant to thee, should He thy life allow,
To grow in grace as thou hast grown in health and beauty now.
Eight fleeting moons have scarcely yet their silver lustre shed;
With dark blue eyes, and sweetest smile, and face so passing fair,
That the germ of all most noble seems e'en now reflected there.
Oh, cherished child! God grant to thee, should He thy life allow,
To grow in grace as thou hast grown in health and beauty now.
