At Ellen’s birth fair Nature smil’d
And claim’d her for his darling child,
The sweetest treasures of the Earth
Were open’d all to grace her birth;
Around the cradle where she lay
The Muses sand a roundelay
While golden Phoebus from the sky
Look’d with a bright auspicious eye:
And thus to Nature who the babe caressed
Spake his high will, his gen’rous wish expressed,
“Let me, fair Dame, your pleasing office share
Be this sweet nursling still our mutual care,
By you, while blooming in her earliest youth
Be led in paths of innocence and truth,
And should she early own Apollo’s pow’r
And tuneful seek the Muse’s fav’rite bow’r,
I’ll be her guide whene’er she moves along
And lead her through the flow’ry land of song;
Thus following Nature and by Genius led
My laurel mix’d with flowers, shall grace her head.”
Comfit