Two little busy hands patting on the window,
Two laughing bright eyes looking out at me;
Two rosy red cheeks dented with a dimple;
Mother-bird is coming; Baby, do you see?

Down by the lilac-bush, something white and azure
Saw I in the window as I passed the tree;
Well I knew the apron and shoulder-knots of ribbon;
All belonged to Baby, looking out for me.

Talking low and tenderly
To myself, as mothers will,
Spake I softly, 'God in Heaven,
Keep my darling free from ill.
Worldly good and worldly honors
Ask I not for her from Thee;
But from want and sin and sorrow,
Keep her ever pure and free.'