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ReadingWillow structured literacy program for Australian students

To Ianthe

Percy Bysshe Shelley·1792–1822
Lines:14Movement:Romanticism
I love thee, Baby! for thine own sweet sake;Those azure eyes, that faintly dimpled cheek,Thy tender frame, so eloquently weak,Love in the sternest heart of hate might wake;But more when o'er thy fitful slumber bendingThy mother folds thee to her wakeful heart,Whilst love and pity, in her glances blending,All that thy passive eyes can feel impart:More, when some feeble lineaments of her,Who bore thy weight beneath her spotless bosom,As with deep love I read thy face, recur,--More dear art thou, O fair and fragile blossom;Dearest when most thy tender traits expressThe image of thy mother's loveliness.