Little Ella moveth lightly
Like a graceful fawn at play,
Like a brooklet running brightly
In the genial smile of May,
Like a breeze upon the meadows
All besprent with early flowers,
Like a bird mid sylvan shadows
In the golden summer hours.
Little Ella brings a blessing
With her bright and winning smile,
With her frank and fond caressing
And her prattle free from guile.
When I hear her footsteps bounding,
In the hall or through the grove,
And her voice with joy resounding,
’Tis the music that I love.