Classic Poem

Lithesome, blithesome daughter mine,
Lift to me those lips of thine;
Greet me with those eyes of blue,
Eyes which seem to look me through:
Flashing now with life and light;
Now in hush of sleep reposing,
Veiled by lashes dark as night—
Shadows over violets closing.
Come thou, o'er me softly bow,
Shower on me fond caresses;
O'er my cheek, and on my brow,
Fling thy wealth of sunbright tresses.
Every throbbing pulse of mine
Beats in time and tune to thine;
All my heart's tide sets to thee,
Loving little Rosalie.

As the dewdrop doth the flower,
As the sunshine doth the hour,
So the music of thy voice
Makes my soul rejoice.
All the livelong day around
Babbles on thy childlike chatter;
Mingled with the pleasant sound
Comes thy little foot's light patter.
Like the linnet's on the thorn
Joyously thy carol floweth—
Sing, my bird, for thy young morn
No dark night of winter knoweth.
Blue-eyed romp, in ceaseless whirl,
Half the angel, half the girl,
All the child art thou to me,
Laughing little Rosalie.

Loved one mine, the sunny day
Passeth rapidly away;
All too soon the bright time goes—
All too fast life's current flows.
Now its fairy waters glide
Where the sunbeams o'er it quiver;
Soon the salt waves meet its tide,
Soon the beck will be the river—
Thine is now the primrose spring,
Thine the bluebell in the meadows:
Mine the fading hours that fling
Autumn leaves and lengthening shadows;
Yet my day lights up awhile
'Neath the sunshine of thy smile—
Thou dost bring new life to me,
Lithesome, blithesome Rosalie.