Reaches on either side down to her waist.
Her rosy complexion, a soft pink and white,
Except where the white has been warmed by the sun,
Is glowing with health and an eager delight,
As she pauses to speak to you after her run.

'See with what freedom, what beautiful ease,
She leaps over hollows and mounds in berrace;
Hear how she joyously laughs when the breeze
Tosses her hat off, and blows in her face!
It's only a play-gown of homeliest cotton
She wears, that her finer silk dress may be saved;
And happily, too, she has wholly forgotten
The nurse and her charge to be better behaved.

'Must a time come when this child's way of caring
For only the present enjoyment shall pass;
When she'll learn to take thought of the dress that she's wearing,
And grow rather fond of consulting the glass?
Well, never mind; nothing really can change her;
Fair childhood will grow to as fair maidenhood;
Her unselfish, sweet nature is safe from all danger;
I know she will always be charming and good.

'For when she takes care of a still younger brother,
You see her stop short in the midst of her mirth,
Gravely and tenderly playing the mother:
Can there be anything fairer on earth?
So proud of her charge she appears, so delighted;
Of all her perfections (indeed, they're a host),