Chapter II

Blue eyes looking up at me, I wonder what you really see, Lying in your cradle there, Fragrant as a branch of myrrh. Helpless little hands and feet, O so helpless! O so sweet! Tiny tongue that cannot talk, Tiny feet that cannot walk, Nothing of you that can do Aught, except those eyes of blue. How they open, how they close! Eyelids of the baby-rose, Open and shut, so blue, so wise, Baby-eyelids, baby-eyes.