|
NOW in thy dazzled, half-oped eye, | |
They curled nose and lip awry, | |
Uphoisted arms and noddling head, | |
And little chin with crystal spread, | |
Poor helpless thing! what do I see | 5 |
That I should sing of thee? | |
|
From thy poor tongue no accents come, | |
Which can but rub thy toothless gum: | |
Small understanding boasts thy face; | |
Thy shapeless limbs nor step nor grace: | 10 |
A few short words thy feats may tell; | |
And yet I love thee well. | |
|
When wakes the sudden bitter shriek, | |
And redder swells thy little cheek; | |
When rattled keys thy woes beguile, | 15 |
And through thine eyelids gleams the smile; | |
Still for thy weakly self is spent | |
Thy little silly plaint. | |
|
But when thy friends are in distress, | |
Thoult laugh and chuckle neertheless; | 20 |
Nor with kind sympathy be smitten | |
Though all are sad but thee and kitten; | |
Yet, puny varlet that thou art, | |
Thou twitchest at the heart. | |
|
Thy smooth round cheek so soft and warm; | 25 |
Thy pinky hand and dimpled arm; | |
Thy silken locks that scantly peep, | |
With gold-tippd ends, where circles deep, | |
Around thy neck in harmless grace | |
So soft and sleekly hold their place, | 30 |
Might harder hearts with kindness fill, | |
And gain our right good will. | |
|
Each passing clown bestows his blessing, | |
Thy mouth is worn with old wives kissing: | |
Een lighter looks the gloomy eye | 35 |
Of surly sense when thou art by; | |
And yet, I think, whoeer they be, | |
They love thee not like me. | |
|
Perhaps when time shall add a few | |
Short months to thee, thoult love me too; | 40 |
And after that, through lifes long way. | |
Become my sure and cheering stay: | |
Wilt care for me and be my hold, | |
When I am weak and old. | |
|
Thoult listen to my lengthend tale, | 45 |
And pity me when I am frail | |
But see! the sweepy swimming fly, | |
Upon the window takes thine eye. | |
Go to thy little senseless play; | |
Thou dost not heed my lay. | 50 |
|