Little Ella, fairest, dearest
Unto me and unto mine,
Earthly cherub, coming nearest
Unto me and unto mine!
Her brief absence frets and pains me,
Her blithe presence solace brings,
Her spontaneous love restrains me
From a hundred selfish things.

Little Ella moveth lightly,
Like a graceful fawn at play:
Like a brooklet running brightly
In the genial smile of May:
Like a breeze upon the meadows,
All besprent with early flowers;
Like a bird 'mid sylvan shadows,
In the golden summer hours.

You should see her, when with Nature
She goes forth to think or play,
Every limb and every feature
Drinking in the joy of day;
Stooping oft 'mid floral splendour,
Snatching colours and perfumes,
She doth seem, so fair and tender,
Kin to the ambrosial blooms.

Sweet thought sitteth like a garland
On her placid brows and eyes,
Eyes which seem to see a far land
Through the intervening skies;
And she seems to listen often
To some voice beyond the spheres,
Whilst her earnest features soften
Into calmness, kin to tears.

Not all mirthful is her manner,
Though no laugh so blithe as hers;
Grave demeanour comes upon her
When her inmost nature stirs.
When a gentle lip reproves her,
All her gladsome graces flee,
But the word 'forgiveness' moves her
With new confidence and glee.

Should a shade of sickness near me,
Then she takes a holier grace,
Comes to strengthen and to cheer me,
With her angel light of face.
Up the stair I hear her coming,
Duly at the morning hour,
Softly singing, sweetly humming,
Like a bee about a flower.

Good books wake serenest feelings
In her undeveloped mind,
Holy thoughts, whose high revealings
Teach her love for human kind.
Music thrills her with a fervour
As from songs of seraphim;
May bright spirits teach and nerve he
To partake their perfect hymn!

We will show her things of beauty
In the purest form and hue,
And the charms of moral duty,
Though our virtues are but few;
We will strive, despite our weakness,
So to train her thoughts and deeds
That true firmness, linked with meekness,
May sustain her when she needs.

God of Heaven! in Thy good seeing
Spare this darling child to me,
Spare me this unsullied being
Till she brings me close to Thee!
Unseen angels! bless her, mould her
Into goodness, clothed with grace,
That at last I may behold her
Talking with ye, face to face!