And find no new thing under the sun.
Once, in the beautiful long ago,
Some dear little children I used to know;
Girls who were merry as lambs at play,
And laughed and rollicked the livelong day.
They thought not at all of the “style” of their clothes;
They never imagined that boys were “beaus;”
“Other girls’ brothers” and “mates” were they,
Splendid fellows to help them play.
Where have they gone to? If you see