The Little Girl's Song

I've a darling little Dolly, and her eyes are black as sloes; 
     She lounges on the sofa night and day, 
And never cares a baubee for the mending of her clo'es, 
     Nor quarrels with the children at their play. 
               O, my bonnie Dolly May, 
               How I love you all the day! 
How I prattle to, and kiss you! — none the less, 
               That I can but feel the lack 
               When you never kiss me back, 
Nor caressingly return my caress.

Though my Dolly is a beauty, she is neither proud nor vain; 
     Will never like Miss Shallow, put on airs; 
But a quiet little lady she will evermore remain,
     Undisturbed by our troubles and our cares. 
               O, my darling Dolly May 
               Is the sharer of my play,
And her eyes seem to watch me as they roll,
               Like a living baby's eyes,
               With a questioning surprise, 
Till it seems as if Dolly had a soul.

She's older than her mamma — funny, isn't it ? — and queer? 
     But she never disobeys me, though 'tis so; 
Nor pouts while I reprove her, nor squeezes out a tear 
     With her knuckles, like some little girls you know.
               O, my pretty Dolly May! 
               I shall sorrow for the day 
When the fancies of my childhood all are o'er, 
               And the older people say, 
               "O, fie ! you mustn't play, 
Such a lady! with your Dolly any more! "