Folks say she is terribly changed, dears,
For her paint is all washed away;
And her arms trodden off by the cows, dears,
And her hair not the least bit curled:
Yet for old time’s sake, she is still to me
The prettiest doll in the world.
—Charles Kingsley.
BED IN SUMMER.
In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.