Poems (Eaton)/My Namesake

by Marcia Jane Eaton

For works with similar titles, see My Namesake.

MY NAMESAKE.

I HAVE a little namesake,
 So full of joyous glee,
There's not a child the wide world o'er
 More dearly loved than she—
So idolized by many hearts,
 More prized than wealth untold,
My playful little namesake
 Of scarcely two years old.

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.

And yet, my little namesake,
 All charming as thou art,
Thou need'st a heavenly power to keep
 The beauty of the heart;
This only boon I ask for thee,
 Treasure more worth than gold,
My radiant little namesake
 Of scarcely two years old.

God grant my little namesake
 To walk her path in life,
Calm and unsullied, through the storms
 Of sorrow, sin and strife;
His guardian care be over her,
 His mighty love enfold
My little darling namesake
 Of scarcely two years old.