Part 7 — CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER

WHEN Letty had scarce pass’d her third glad year, And her young artless words began to flow, One day we gave the child a colour’d sphere Of the wide earth, that she might mark and know, By tint and outline, all its sea and land. She patted all the world; old empires peep’d Between her baby fingers; her soft hand Was welcome at all frontiers. How she leap’d, And laugh’d and prattled in her world-wide bliss; But when we turn’d her sweet unlearnèd eye On our own isle, she raised a joyous cry— ‘Oh! yes, I see it, Letty’s home is there!’ And while she hid all England with a kiss, Bright over Europe fell her golden hair.