Dear Little Ethel.

A poem by Wilfred S. Skeats

Dear little Ethel,
Child that I love,
Come, as an angel,
Down from above.

Golden-rayed tresses,
Shining and bright,
Inviting caresses,
Mirroring light.

Eyes blue and tender,
Beaming with joy.
Who would offend her?
Who would annoy?

Ripple thy laughter!
Bubble thy glee!
Loud will the rafter
Echo to thee.

Clinging to mother,
Set on her knee;
She has no other
Dearer than thee.

Slave thou hast bound her;
Nestles thine arm,
Twining around her,
Telling thy charm.

Innocent speeches
Silencing strife;
Hallowed each is:
Pearls of a life.

Come, come and kiss me,
Child of my heart.
Oh! I would miss thee
Were we to part.

God in His mercy
Shelter my dove,
Dear little Ethel,
Child that I love.

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