Little Helen on her chair—

Patiently at work was she,

And in ringlets fell her hair—

Lovely did she seem to me.

She was sitting,

Knitting, knitting.

Busy little girl! thought I,

How I love to see your skill!

I am half inclined to try,

And I almost think I will!

See her sitting,

Knitting, knitting.

In a whirl the fingers fly

First one needle, then the next!

She might with her mother vie;

But for me, I am perplexed.

She was sitting,

Knitting, knitting.

Then a zig-zag cross this way,

Then a curious whirl again—

How she makes the fingers play;

It’s no business for the men,

To be sitting,

Knitting, knitting.

Now the curious seam is made;

How to do it I can’t tell,

But the skill she has displayed

Makes me think she does it well[.]

She was sitting

Knitting, knitting.

Now the toe is closed and done—

What a pretty sock is this!

It is knitting number one!

Go and get your mother’s kiss!

She was sitting,

Knitting, knitting.

Busy little girl! thought I,

How I love to see your skill!

And the pleasure in her eye

Made my heart with pleasure fill—

Helen sitting,

At her knitting.