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 rumored 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 their 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!