Her little foot, exposed to view,
As on the wall she sits askew,
Beneath her petticoat doth show
Like April bud in bank of snow,
So shy, yet daring to peep through.

I wot that, — though I never knew
The dainty links between the two —
Yet from her winsome face I'd know
Her little foot!

She sketches clouds, and depths of blue,
And trees, and birds of dapper hue,
The while I watch swing to and fro
That foot, like fairy rocking slow,
Till, drawn by it, I draw it, too —
Her little foot.