Our Helen is a 'perfect love' <br />Of a blue-eyed baby; <br />When she's grown she'll be a belle, <br />And a 'Venus,' may be. <br /> <br />Such a cunning little mouth, <br />Lips as red as cherry, <br />And she smiles on all around <br />In a way so merry. <br /> <br />Laughs, and crows, and claps her hands, <br />Springs, and hops, and dances, <br />As if her little brain overflowed <br />With lively, tripping fancies. <br /> <br />Then she'll arch her pretty neck, <br />And toss her head so queenly, <br />And, when she's weary, fall asleep <br />And slumber so serenely. <br /> <br />She has a cunning kind of way <br />Of looking sly and witty, <br />As if to say, in baby words, <br />'I know I'm very pretty.' <br /> <br />She bites her 'mammy,' scratches 'nurse,' <br />And makes droll mouths at 'pappy;' <br />We can but love the roguish thing, <br />She looks so bright and happy. <br /> <br />The dinner-table seems to be <br />The crown of all her wishes, <br />For there the gypsy's sure to have <br />A hand in all the dishes. <br /> <br />But why should we essay to sing <br />Her thousand sprightly graces? <br />She has the merriest of ways, <br />The prettiest of faces. <br /> <br />We know she'll grow a peerless one, <br />With skin all white and pearly; <br />And laughing eyes, and auburn locks, <br />All silky, soft and curly. <br /> <br />Her baby laugh and sportive glee, <br />Her spirit's airy lightness, <br />Surround the pleasant prairie home <br />With hues of magic brightness.<br /><br />Frances Ellen Watkins Harper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/our-helen/
