Ada by Horace P. Biddle

Ada

Ah! she is nature's own sweet child,
So pure in mind and heart,
Still unsuspecting, unbeguiled,
And all unspoiled by art!

Health beats within her rounded zone
And glows in every vein;
Her bosom is a living throne,
Where sweet affections reign!

Her golden hair in rippling waves
Flows softly o'er her brow;
Her snowy shoulders, where it laves,
Peer just a little through!

Cheeks that out-blush the morning rose,
A brow that rivals snow,
Lips that the ruby's tints disclose
These need no pencilled glow!

A gentle breast that knows no sin,
In faith and virtue strong;
It keeps its modesty within,
And never dreams of wrong!

There is no sin or wrong in truth,
Whate'er the form it takes;
Her sparkling eyes and rosy mouth
Reveal it ere she speaks!

Her virgin heart and mind of light,
Her soft, sweet, winning tone,
With many a nameless charm unite,
And blend them all in one!

She needs not fashion's narrow rule
To guide her feet secure;
Her wildest ways are beautiful,
Her freest thoughts are pure!

There is a cadence in her step,
Her very motions rhyme;
And there is music in her lip,
Her language is a chime!

Such beauty needs no artful wile
Its dignity to prove;
It needs no taught or practiced smile
To win and keep our love! 

She brings us confidence and joy,

And leaves sweet memories

A pleasure that can never cloy,

A charm that never dies!

And only nature can impart

A grace so beautiful;

It springs from purity of heart,

And dwells within the soul!