You’d never guess what ’t was I found
One morning in my basket;
Oh! such a precious, precious gem
For such a funny casket.
Gem, did I say? A wealth of gems:
Sweet eyes of sapphire brightness,
And, ’twixt two lips of coral red,
Pearls dazzling in their whiteness.
And gold was there on waving hair,
And lilies too, and roses
On rounded cheeks, and dimpled chin
And cunningest of noses.
“In here, mamma,” the darling cried.
“Look! I’m a little story;
The one you didn’t like, you know—
‘Prince Bee and Morning Glory.’
“And Rover, he’s a jingle, torn
’Cause he went wrong—poor Rover!
But I’m real pretty. Wont you take
Me out and write me over?”
I kissed the laughing eyes and mouth.
“My pet, you need not ask it;
No story sweet as you must stay
In mamma’s old waste-basket!”