HILE we watched in chilly May Winter's slow surrender, Waiting vainly for a day Warm and soft and tender, Little Nannie found her way Into summer splendor.
Nannie, with her rose-white face And her dove-like cooing, Winning in all hearts a place By her artless wooing, And the deeds of baby grace She was always doing.
We whose lives have left behind Childhood's paths forever, In our tiresome strivings find Years of vain endeavor: Tedious toil of hand and mind, Recompensed, ah never!
But this world, whose brightest day Seems to us so dreary, Nannie found all bright and gay, Love-alight and cheery,—Stayed a little while to play, And went home unweary.
When the summer-garden glows With its blossoms many, And we find a wee white rose Lovelier than any, We shall say, "How fair it grows! This is little Nannie!"
HILE we watched in chilly May Winter's slow surrender, Waiting vainly for a day Warm and soft and tender, Little Nannie found her way Into summer splendor. 
HILE we watched in chilly May Winter's slow surrender, Waiting vainly for a day Warm and soft and tender, Little Nannie found her way Into summer splendor. 