Bessie Grey

She’s a bonny, bonny Baby,
    Is our bonny Bessie Grey,
With her fist as full of dimples
    As a rivulet at play;
And her pure eyes softly azure, –
    Like the tender eyes of May
When her sister June has kissed her,
    And she turns to go away.

Wordless Loves, well she loves us,
    Well we love our Bessie Grey;
Surely this is made for kisses,
    This sweet mouth whose lips betray
This twin pearls that laugh and sweetly
    When a love-dance shoots this way;
Plump & white lie those arms tightly,
    On the warm heart where they may.

She has made a little language
    Far he glee, has Bessie Grey,
Brooks that tinkle in the dingle
    Sing it in this roundelay; 
Thrush & linnet warble in it.
    Just before the break of day;
And the sylphides of the Zephyrs
    Breathe it to the Lily-Fay.

In the morn a sweeter morning
    As our bonny Bessie Grey,
Out of rosy slumber breaking
To a yet more rosy waking,
    As a bud bursts on the spray!
Laughing, springing, clinking, chinging,
She’s the light, the life, & singing,
    But, & bud, & golden ray!

O, a blithesome, bonny Baby, 
    As our dashing Bessie Grey, 
Loving, winning, sweet beginning
    Of all sweetness, grave or gay;
Fair & frolic, bringing blisses
    Fresh from Eden, wrapt in clay,
Given us for a thousand kisses
That make more the debt we pay.

Leap & crow, thou baby angel,
    Bonny, laughing Bessie Grey!
Hand & foot, & mouth, & blue eye,
    More than words thy gladness say;
Mirth & sweetness gave completeness
    To thy white souls downing day;
Angels bless thee, dashing Bessie!
    Now, tomorrow, & for aye!