This doll upon the topmost bough,
This playmate-gift, in Christmas dress,
Was taken down and brought to me
One sleety night most comfortless.
Her hair was gold, her dolly-sash
Was gray brocade, most good to see.
The dear toy laughed, and I forgot
The ill the new year promised me.
More verses by Vachel Lindsay
- To The United States Senate
- On Suddenly Receiving A Curl Long Refused
- What The Forester Said
- Our Guardian Angels And Their Children
- Honor Among Scamps