LITTLE, fairy Isabel!
Great or little is it well
To call thy beauty, since the smart,
It causes overpowers my heart.
Little mouth and teeth hast thou,
Little hand and foot and brow;
Little steps that lightly move,
Little veil and shoe and glove;
Little lovely ways and looks;
Little bower and works and books;
But a wonder everywhere,
Round about thee I declare;
'Mid so many little things,
The fire thy pretty presence brings,
Burning through my very frame,
Is indeed no little flame.