- To Annie Eliza
- (Growing Somewhat Oldish)
Ah, Mistress Annie, though you throw
Each girlhood game away,
I see, alas, 't will come to pass
That other games you 'll play!
Now you 've outgrown your skipping-rope,
And your last lisp or two,
By sterner name will go this game
Your teens have given you!
('T will not be dolls and dishes, Dear,
For you, alack-aday.
So wise must grow that you 'll soon throw
Mere toys—and me—away!)
You 'll break each cup and tea-thing up,—
You 'll lose your taste for tarts,
And as you 've played with dishes, Dear,
Too soon you 'll play with hearts!
