ACCOMPANIED BY A TOY .

Dear Lucy, the light of your sweet little face,
I have heard by good judges proclaimed;
If it bears of your beautiful mother a trace,
Then, darling, you are properly named.

They christened you " Lucy, " my dear little one,
And, if what I am told is half true,
That you shine in the house like a ray of the sun,
I don't know what else they could do.

A dear, truant angel, just out of the sky,
You needs must be radiant, I'm sure;
May the light of your smile, and the light of your eye,
Undimmed in their lustre endure.

With this toy — no great thing, but it still might be worse —
You can whistle, or ring out a chime;
Accept, too, this poor penny-whistle of verse,
With its light jingling rattle of rhyme.