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the baby and the breeze.

Her foot will bound as light and free
In lowly hut as palace-hall;
Her sunny smile as warm will be,—
For Love to her is all!

Hast seen where in our woodland-gloom
The rich Magnolia proudly smiled?—
So brightly doth she bud and bloom,
New England's Mountain-child!


THE BABY AND THE BREEZE.
The breeze was high, and blew her sun-brown tresses
  About her snowy brow and violet eyes;
  And she—my Ellen—brave and sweetly wise,
In gay defiance of its rough caresses,
With rosy, pouting month, essay'd at length
To blow the rude airs back, that mocked her baby-strength.