I found my old dolls
In the attic to-day,
In a box where I long ago
Laid them away.
It was silly, I know,
But 'twas such a surprise,
The sight of their faces
Brought tears to my eyes.
There was poor little Flossie,
With azure eyes closed.
For many a month
She had quietly dozed,
In the little silk gown
In which I last dressed her--
That time was brought back
So I stopped and caressed her;
And then, as I raised her,
She opened her eyes,
And stared at her mother
In such sad surprise
That I kissed her and laid
Her again in her place
To keep her reproachful
Blue eyes off my face.
And next I uncovered
My little bisque Mabel,
To meet whose brown eyes
I was still more unable.
There gaze was surprised,
But exceedingly mild,
My poor little, dear little,
Led-away child!
And I kissed her, her face
Looked so childish and sweet,
And I held for a moment
Her little kid feet,
For her stockings were scattered,
And so were her shoes,
And then, when I found them,
They gave me the blues.
I kissed her, and laid her
Back in the box, but
She looked at me still
(For her eyes would not shut)
And hastily covering
Her face from my sight,
I searched till wax Elsie
I brought to the light.
Now, that poor little doll
Was only my niece,
Her eyes were dark blue
And her curls white as fleece
But her nose was so flat,
'Twas no longer a nose,
And her wax cheeks had faded
And lost all their rose.
From losing her sawdust
Her body was slender,
Yet for those very reasons
My kiss was more tender,
And I laid the poor thing
Away with a sigh,
And feeling, I must say,
Like having a cry.
One big doll was missing,--
My dear Rosabel,--
How much I did love her,
I really can't tell.
It is painful, indeed,
To be talking about,
But I loved her so much
That I quite wore her out.
Well, well, I am older,
But I'm sure I'm not glad.
The thought of those old times,
In fact makes me sad.
And, although the feeling
Is silly, I know,
I cannot help sighing:
"Oh! why did I grow?"