Is our Helen very fair?
If you only knew her
You would doubt it not, howe'er
Stranger eyes may view her.
We who see her day by day
Through our household moving,
Whether she be fair or nay
Cannot see for loving.
O'er our gentle Helen's face
No rich hues are bright'ning,
And no smiles of feigned grace
From her lips are light'ning;
She hath quiet, smiling eyes,
Fair hair simply braided,
All as mild as evening skies
Ere sunlight hath faded.
Our kind, thoughtful Helen loves
Our approving praises,
But her eye that never roves
Shrinks from other gazes.
She, so late within her home
But a child caressing,
Now a woman hath become,
Ministering, blessing.
All her duty, all her bliss,
In her home she findeth,
Nor too narrow deemeth this--
Lowly things she mindeth;
Yet when deeper cares distress,
She is our adviser;
Reason's rules she needeth less,
For her heart is wiser.
For the sorrows of the poor
Her kind spirit bleedeth,
And, because so good and pure,
For the erring pleadeth.
Is our Helen very fair?
If you only knew her
You would doubt it not, howe'er
Stranger eyes may view her.