The topmost leaves of the holly,
The sheen of a silken shoe!
And the eldest spake to her father:
"I have seen—yes, year by year,
On the crown of our Christmas hollies,
That small shoe glittering clear;
"But you never have told who owned it,
Nor why, so loftily set,
It shines though the fadeless verdure—
You never have told us yet!"