How bright and beautiful art thou,
Dear little fairy creature,
With moon-like eyes and sunny brow,
Hope moulding ev'ry feature!

When through the house, in careless glee,
Thy full, clear notes are ringing,
'Tis now the hum of bird or bee,
Now careless fairies' singing.

No thought of thine from art is drawn,
But Nature's pupil only;
Thou'rt graceful as a little fawn,
That dwells in forest lonely.

Free and sincere, and young and brave,
In word, and thought, and notion;
Wild art thou as the wildest wave
Of all the Indian ocean.

Oh! never may those moon-like eyes
Weep aught but tears of gladness;
May care, whom childhood now defies,
Ne'er mark that brow with sadness.

May still thy fervent spirit glow
With thoughts of love and laughter;
And Innocence and Faith bestow
Their fadeless crown hereafter.

Then will the little Laurestine
Be what even now she seems--
A being whose angelic mien
Oft haunts the poet's dreams.