Dollie

SHE sports a witching gown

With a ruffle up and down,

On the skirt:

She is gentle, she is shy,

But there’s mischief in her eye,

She’s a flirt!

She displays a tiny glove,

And a dainty little love

Of a shoe;

And she wears her hat a-tilt

Over bangs that never wilt

In the dew.

’T is rumoured chocolate creams

Are the fabrics of her dreams—

But enough!

I know beyond a doubt

That she carries them about

In her muff.

With her dimples and her curls

She exasperates the girls

Past belief:

They hint that she ’s a cat,

And delightful things like that

In her grief.

It is shocking, I declare,

But what does Dollie care

When the beaux

Come flocking to her feet

Like the bees around a sweet

Little rose!