The Project Gutenberg eBook ofLilliput LyricsThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Lilliput LyricsAuthor: W. B. RandsEditor: R. Brimley JohnsonIllustrator: Charles RobinsonRelease date: September 11, 2016 [eBook #53030]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by David Edwards, Chuck Greif and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LILLIPUT LYRICS ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Lilliput LyricsAuthor: W. B. RandsEditor: R. Brimley JohnsonIllustrator: Charles RobinsonRelease date: September 11, 2016 [eBook #53030]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by David Edwards, Chuck Greif and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)
Title: Lilliput Lyrics
Author: W. B. RandsEditor: R. Brimley JohnsonIllustrator: Charles Robinson
Author: W. B. Rands
Editor: R. Brimley Johnson
Illustrator: Charles Robinson
Release date: September 11, 2016 [eBook #53030]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Produced by David Edwards, Chuck Greif and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LILLIPUT LYRICS ***
Contents.
Some typographical errors have been corrected;a list follows the text.
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(etext transcriber's note)
Image unavailable: Lillput Lyrics
The following verses have been selected from “Lilliput Levee,” 1868, and from W. B. Rands’ numerous contributions to magazines.[A]He wroteunder many signatures, never enumerated; but—with the generous assistance of his son, Mr. Paul W. Rands, and his publisher, Mr. Alexander Strahan—I have been able to identify and examine all his work. Three poems are included, by permission, from the reprint of “Lilliput Lectures,” which I lately edited for Mr. James Bowden. Messrs. Dalziel have allowed me to use one from “Hood’s Comic Annual.” All other rights belonged to Mr. Strahan, and have been transferred, with the full concurrence of Mr. P. W. Rands, to Mr. John Lane for this volume. Nothing has been included from “Innocent’s Island,” which we hope to reprint shortly with some of the “Lilliput Revels.”
These are poems for children, with whom Rands was always at his best, and have been chosen in remembrance of their tastes and understandings. As many of them are printed from magazines and never received the author’s final revision, I haveoccasionally edited the text, without scruple, by omitting weak lines or even altering a word.
R. B. J.
Image unavailable: The End of the Editor’s Note
[A]A portion of the Introductory Verses to “Lilliput Legends” is also included.
[A]A portion of the Introductory Verses to “Lilliput Legends” is also included.
RAT-TAT! the postman knocks!This is the Lilliput letter-box.A penny for your thoughts, my dear!So said the Raven in Odin’s ear.Here comes a letter from Thing-a-my-Bob,A letter from Ruth, a letter from Rob.Rat-tat! the postman knocks!This is the Lilliput letter-box.
RAT-TAT! the postman knocks!This is the Lilliput letter-box.A penny for your thoughts, my dear!So said the Raven in Odin’s ear.Here comes a letter from Thing-a-my-Bob,A letter from Ruth, a letter from Rob.Rat-tat! the postman knocks!This is the Lilliput letter-box.
RAT-TAT! the postman knocks!This is the Lilliput letter-box.A penny for your thoughts, my dear!So said the Raven in Odin’s ear.Here comes a letter from Thing-a-my-Bob,A letter from Ruth, a letter from Rob.Rat-tat! the postman knocks!This is the Lilliput letter-box.
Image unavailable: Lyrics
WHERE does Pinafore Palace stand?Right in the middle of Lilliput-land!There the Queen eats bread-and-honey,There the King counts up his money!Oh, the Glorious Revolution!Oh, the Provisional Constitution!Now that the children, clever bold folks,Have turned the tables upon the Old Folks!Easily the thing was done,For the children were more than two to one;Brave as lions, quick as foxes,With hoards of wealth in their money-boxes!They seized the keys, they patrolled the street,They drove the policeman off his beat,They built barricades, they stationed sentries—You must give the word, when you come to the entries!They dressed themselves, in the Riflemen’s clothes,They had pea-shooters, they had arrows and bows,So as to put resistance down—Order regions in Lilliput-town!They made the baker bake hot rolls,They made the wharfinger send in coals,They made the butcher kill the calf,They cut the telegraph-wires in half.They went to the chemists, and with their feetThey kicked the physic all down the street;They went to the schoolroom and tore the books,They munched the puffs at the pastrycook’s.They sucked the jam, they lost the spoons,They sent up several fire-balloons,They let off crackers, they burnt a guy,They piled a bonfire ever so high.They offered a prize for the laziest boy,And one for the most Magnificent toy;They split or burnt the canes offhand,They made new laws in Lilliput-land.Never do to-day what you canPut off till to-morrow, one of them ran;Late to bed and late to riseWas another law which they did devise.They passed a law to have always plentyOf beautiful things: we shall mention twenty:A magic lantern for all to see,Rabbits to keep, and a Christmas-tree,A boat, a house that went on wheels,An organ to grind, and sherry at meals,Drums and wheelbarrows, Roman candles,Whips with whistles let into the handles,A real live giant, a roc to fly,A goat to tease, a copper to sky,A garret of apples, a box of paints,A saw and a hammer, and no complaints.Nail up the door, slide down the stairs,Saw off the legs of the parlour chairs—That was the way in Lilliput-land,The children having the upper hand.They made the Old Folks come to school,And in pinafores,—that was the rule,—Saying,Eener-deener-diner-duss,Kattler-wheeler-whiler-wuss;They made them learn all sorts of thingsThat nobody liked. They had catechisings;They kept them in, they sent them downIn class, in school, in Lilliput-town.O but they gave them tit-for-tat!Thick bread-and-butter, and all that;Stick-jaw pudding that tires your chin,With the marmalade spread ever so thin!They governed the clock in Lilliput-land,They altered the hour or the minute-hand,They made the day fast, they made the day slow,Just as they wished the time to go.They never waited for king or for cat;They never wiped their shoes on the mat;Their joy was great; their joy was greater;They rode in the baby’s perambulator!There was a Levee in Lilliput-town,At Pinafore Palace. Smith and Brown,Jones and Robinson had to attend—All to whom they cards did send.Every one rode in a cab to the door;Every one came in a pinafore;Lady and gentleman, rat-tat-tat,Loud knock, proud knock, opera hat!The place was covered with silver and gold,The place was as full as it ever could hold;The ladies kissed her Majesty’s hand,Such was the custom in Lilliput-land.His Majesty knighted eight or ten,Perhaps a score, of the gentlemen,Some of them short and some of them tall—Arise, Sir What’s-a-name What-do-you-call!Nuts and nutmeg (that’s in the negus);The bill of fare would perhaps fatigue us;Forty-five fiddlers to play the fiddle;Right foot, left foot, down the middle.Conjuring tricks with the poker and tongs,Riddles and forfeits, singing of songs;One fat man, too fat by far,Tried “Twinkle, twinkle, little star.”His voice was gruff, his pinafore tight,His wife said, “Mind, dear, sing it right,”But he forgot, and said Fa-la-la!The Queen of Lilliput’s own papa!She frowned, and ordered him up to bed:He said he was sorry; she shook her head;His clean shirt-front with his tears was stained—But discipline had to be maintained.The Constitution! The Law! The Crown!Order reigns in Lilliput-town!The Queen is Jill, and the King is John;I trust the Government will get on.I noticed, being a man of rhymes,An advertisement in theLilliput Times:—“Pinafore Palace. This is to stateThat the Court is in want of a Laureate.“Nothing menial required.Poets, willing to be hired,May send in Specimens at once,Care of the ChamberlainDoubledunce.”Said I to myself Here’s a chance for meThe Lilliput Laureate for to be!And these are the Specimens I sent inTo Pinafore Palace. Shall I win?Public Notice.—This is to stateThat these are the specimens left at the gateOf Pinafore Palace, exact to date,In the hands of the porter, Curlypate,Who sits in his plush on a chair of state,By the gentleman who is a candidateFor the office ofLilliput Laureate.
WHERE does Pinafore Palace stand?Right in the middle of Lilliput-land!There the Queen eats bread-and-honey,There the King counts up his money!Oh, the Glorious Revolution!Oh, the Provisional Constitution!Now that the children, clever bold folks,Have turned the tables upon the Old Folks!Easily the thing was done,For the children were more than two to one;Brave as lions, quick as foxes,With hoards of wealth in their money-boxes!They seized the keys, they patrolled the street,They drove the policeman off his beat,They built barricades, they stationed sentries—You must give the word, when you come to the entries!They dressed themselves, in the Riflemen’s clothes,They had pea-shooters, they had arrows and bows,So as to put resistance down—Order regions in Lilliput-town!They made the baker bake hot rolls,They made the wharfinger send in coals,They made the butcher kill the calf,They cut the telegraph-wires in half.They went to the chemists, and with their feetThey kicked the physic all down the street;They went to the schoolroom and tore the books,They munched the puffs at the pastrycook’s.They sucked the jam, they lost the spoons,They sent up several fire-balloons,They let off crackers, they burnt a guy,They piled a bonfire ever so high.They offered a prize for the laziest boy,And one for the most Magnificent toy;They split or burnt the canes offhand,They made new laws in Lilliput-land.Never do to-day what you canPut off till to-morrow, one of them ran;Late to bed and late to riseWas another law which they did devise.They passed a law to have always plentyOf beautiful things: we shall mention twenty:A magic lantern for all to see,Rabbits to keep, and a Christmas-tree,A boat, a house that went on wheels,An organ to grind, and sherry at meals,Drums and wheelbarrows, Roman candles,Whips with whistles let into the handles,A real live giant, a roc to fly,A goat to tease, a copper to sky,A garret of apples, a box of paints,A saw and a hammer, and no complaints.Nail up the door, slide down the stairs,Saw off the legs of the parlour chairs—That was the way in Lilliput-land,The children having the upper hand.They made the Old Folks come to school,And in pinafores,—that was the rule,—Saying,Eener-deener-diner-duss,Kattler-wheeler-whiler-wuss;They made them learn all sorts of thingsThat nobody liked. They had catechisings;They kept them in, they sent them downIn class, in school, in Lilliput-town.O but they gave them tit-for-tat!Thick bread-and-butter, and all that;Stick-jaw pudding that tires your chin,With the marmalade spread ever so thin!They governed the clock in Lilliput-land,They altered the hour or the minute-hand,They made the day fast, they made the day slow,Just as they wished the time to go.They never waited for king or for cat;They never wiped their shoes on the mat;Their joy was great; their joy was greater;They rode in the baby’s perambulator!There was a Levee in Lilliput-town,At Pinafore Palace. Smith and Brown,Jones and Robinson had to attend—All to whom they cards did send.Every one rode in a cab to the door;Every one came in a pinafore;Lady and gentleman, rat-tat-tat,Loud knock, proud knock, opera hat!The place was covered with silver and gold,The place was as full as it ever could hold;The ladies kissed her Majesty’s hand,Such was the custom in Lilliput-land.His Majesty knighted eight or ten,Perhaps a score, of the gentlemen,Some of them short and some of them tall—Arise, Sir What’s-a-name What-do-you-call!Nuts and nutmeg (that’s in the negus);The bill of fare would perhaps fatigue us;Forty-five fiddlers to play the fiddle;Right foot, left foot, down the middle.Conjuring tricks with the poker and tongs,Riddles and forfeits, singing of songs;One fat man, too fat by far,Tried “Twinkle, twinkle, little star.”His voice was gruff, his pinafore tight,His wife said, “Mind, dear, sing it right,”But he forgot, and said Fa-la-la!The Queen of Lilliput’s own papa!She frowned, and ordered him up to bed:He said he was sorry; she shook her head;His clean shirt-front with his tears was stained—But discipline had to be maintained.The Constitution! The Law! The Crown!Order reigns in Lilliput-town!The Queen is Jill, and the King is John;I trust the Government will get on.I noticed, being a man of rhymes,An advertisement in theLilliput Times:—“Pinafore Palace. This is to stateThat the Court is in want of a Laureate.“Nothing menial required.Poets, willing to be hired,May send in Specimens at once,Care of the ChamberlainDoubledunce.”Said I to myself Here’s a chance for meThe Lilliput Laureate for to be!And these are the Specimens I sent inTo Pinafore Palace. Shall I win?Public Notice.—This is to stateThat these are the specimens left at the gateOf Pinafore Palace, exact to date,In the hands of the porter, Curlypate,Who sits in his plush on a chair of state,By the gentleman who is a candidateFor the office ofLilliput Laureate.
WHERE does Pinafore Palace stand?Right in the middle of Lilliput-land!There the Queen eats bread-and-honey,There the King counts up his money!
Oh, the Glorious Revolution!Oh, the Provisional Constitution!Now that the children, clever bold folks,Have turned the tables upon the Old Folks!
Easily the thing was done,For the children were more than two to one;Brave as lions, quick as foxes,With hoards of wealth in their money-boxes!
They seized the keys, they patrolled the street,They drove the policeman off his beat,They built barricades, they stationed sentries—You must give the word, when you come to the entries!
They dressed themselves, in the Riflemen’s clothes,They had pea-shooters, they had arrows and bows,So as to put resistance down—Order regions in Lilliput-town!
They made the baker bake hot rolls,They made the wharfinger send in coals,They made the butcher kill the calf,They cut the telegraph-wires in half.
They went to the chemists, and with their feetThey kicked the physic all down the street;They went to the schoolroom and tore the books,They munched the puffs at the pastrycook’s.
They sucked the jam, they lost the spoons,They sent up several fire-balloons,They let off crackers, they burnt a guy,They piled a bonfire ever so high.
They offered a prize for the laziest boy,And one for the most Magnificent toy;They split or burnt the canes offhand,They made new laws in Lilliput-land.
Never do to-day what you canPut off till to-morrow, one of them ran;Late to bed and late to riseWas another law which they did devise.
They passed a law to have always plentyOf beautiful things: we shall mention twenty:A magic lantern for all to see,Rabbits to keep, and a Christmas-tree,
A boat, a house that went on wheels,An organ to grind, and sherry at meals,Drums and wheelbarrows, Roman candles,Whips with whistles let into the handles,
A real live giant, a roc to fly,A goat to tease, a copper to sky,A garret of apples, a box of paints,A saw and a hammer, and no complaints.
Nail up the door, slide down the stairs,Saw off the legs of the parlour chairs—That was the way in Lilliput-land,The children having the upper hand.
They made the Old Folks come to school,And in pinafores,—that was the rule,—Saying,Eener-deener-diner-duss,Kattler-wheeler-whiler-wuss;
They made them learn all sorts of thingsThat nobody liked. They had catechisings;They kept them in, they sent them downIn class, in school, in Lilliput-town.
O but they gave them tit-for-tat!Thick bread-and-butter, and all that;Stick-jaw pudding that tires your chin,With the marmalade spread ever so thin!
They governed the clock in Lilliput-land,They altered the hour or the minute-hand,They made the day fast, they made the day slow,Just as they wished the time to go.
They never waited for king or for cat;They never wiped their shoes on the mat;Their joy was great; their joy was greater;They rode in the baby’s perambulator!
There was a Levee in Lilliput-town,At Pinafore Palace. Smith and Brown,Jones and Robinson had to attend—All to whom they cards did send.
Every one rode in a cab to the door;Every one came in a pinafore;Lady and gentleman, rat-tat-tat,Loud knock, proud knock, opera hat!
The place was covered with silver and gold,The place was as full as it ever could hold;The ladies kissed her Majesty’s hand,Such was the custom in Lilliput-land.
His Majesty knighted eight or ten,Perhaps a score, of the gentlemen,Some of them short and some of them tall—Arise, Sir What’s-a-name What-do-you-call!
Nuts and nutmeg (that’s in the negus);The bill of fare would perhaps fatigue us;Forty-five fiddlers to play the fiddle;Right foot, left foot, down the middle.
Conjuring tricks with the poker and tongs,Riddles and forfeits, singing of songs;One fat man, too fat by far,Tried “Twinkle, twinkle, little star.”
His voice was gruff, his pinafore tight,His wife said, “Mind, dear, sing it right,”But he forgot, and said Fa-la-la!The Queen of Lilliput’s own papa!
She frowned, and ordered him up to bed:He said he was sorry; she shook her head;His clean shirt-front with his tears was stained—But discipline had to be maintained.
The Constitution! The Law! The Crown!Order reigns in Lilliput-town!The Queen is Jill, and the King is John;I trust the Government will get on.
I noticed, being a man of rhymes,An advertisement in theLilliput Times:—“Pinafore Palace. This is to stateThat the Court is in want of a Laureate.
“Nothing menial required.Poets, willing to be hired,May send in Specimens at once,Care of the ChamberlainDoubledunce.”
Said I to myself Here’s a chance for meThe Lilliput Laureate for to be!And these are the Specimens I sent inTo Pinafore Palace. Shall I win?
Public Notice.—This is to stateThat these are the specimens left at the gateOf Pinafore Palace, exact to date,In the hands of the porter, Curlypate,Who sits in his plush on a chair of state,By the gentleman who is a candidateFor the office ofLilliput Laureate.
THIS is her picture—Dolladine—The beautifullest doll that ever was seen!Oh, what nosegays! Oh, what sashes!Oh, what beautiful eyes and lashes!Oh, what a precious perfect pet!On each instep a pink rosette;Little blue shoes for her little blue tots;Elegant ribbons in bows and knots.Her hair is powdered; her arms are straight,Only feel—she is quite a weight!Her legs are limp, though;—stand up, miss!—What a beautiful buttoned-up mouth to kiss!
THIS is her picture—Dolladine—The beautifullest doll that ever was seen!Oh, what nosegays! Oh, what sashes!Oh, what beautiful eyes and lashes!Oh, what a precious perfect pet!On each instep a pink rosette;Little blue shoes for her little blue tots;Elegant ribbons in bows and knots.Her hair is powdered; her arms are straight,Only feel—she is quite a weight!Her legs are limp, though;—stand up, miss!—What a beautiful buttoned-up mouth to kiss!
THIS is her picture—Dolladine—The beautifullest doll that ever was seen!Oh, what nosegays! Oh, what sashes!Oh, what beautiful eyes and lashes!
Oh, what a precious perfect pet!On each instep a pink rosette;Little blue shoes for her little blue tots;Elegant ribbons in bows and knots.
Her hair is powdered; her arms are straight,Only feel—she is quite a weight!Her legs are limp, though;—stand up, miss!—What a beautiful buttoned-up mouth to kiss!
Thisis the doll with respect to whomA story is told that ends in gloom;For there was a sensitive little sirWent out of his mind for love of her!They pulled a wire, she moved her eye;They squeezed the bellows, they made her cry;But the boy could never be persuadedThat these were really things whichtheydid.“My Dolladine,” he said, “has life;I love her, and she shall be my wife;Dainty delicate Dolladine,The prettiest girl that ever was seen!”To give his passion a chance to cool,They sent the lover to boarding-school.But absence only made it worse—He never learnt anything, prose or verse!He drew her likeness on his slate;His Grammar was in adreadfulstate,With Dolladine all over the edges,And true-love knots, and vows, and pledges.What was the consequence?—Doctor WhackBegged of his parents to take him back.When his condition, poor boy, was seen,Too late, they sent for Dolladine.And now he will never part with her:He calls her lily, and rose, and myrrh,Dolly-o’-diamonds, precious lamb,Humming-bird, honey-pot, jewel, jam,Darling, delicate-dear-delight,Angel-o’-red, angel-o’-white,Queen of beauty, and suchlike names;In fact all manner of darts and flames!Of course, while he keeps up this wooingHis education goes to ruin:What are his prospects in future life,With only a doll for his lawful wife?It is feared his parents’ hearts will break!And there’s one remark I wish to make:I may be wrong, but it seems a pityFor a movable doll to be made too pretty.An old-fashioned doll, that is not like nature,Can never pass for a human creature;It is in a doll that moves her eyesThat the danger of these misfortunes lies!The lover’s name must be suppressedFor obvious reasons. He lives out west,And if I call him Pygmalion Pout,I don’t believe you will find him out!
Thisis the doll with respect to whomA story is told that ends in gloom;For there was a sensitive little sirWent out of his mind for love of her!They pulled a wire, she moved her eye;They squeezed the bellows, they made her cry;But the boy could never be persuadedThat these were really things whichtheydid.“My Dolladine,” he said, “has life;I love her, and she shall be my wife;Dainty delicate Dolladine,The prettiest girl that ever was seen!”To give his passion a chance to cool,They sent the lover to boarding-school.But absence only made it worse—He never learnt anything, prose or verse!He drew her likeness on his slate;His Grammar was in adreadfulstate,With Dolladine all over the edges,And true-love knots, and vows, and pledges.What was the consequence?—Doctor WhackBegged of his parents to take him back.When his condition, poor boy, was seen,Too late, they sent for Dolladine.And now he will never part with her:He calls her lily, and rose, and myrrh,Dolly-o’-diamonds, precious lamb,Humming-bird, honey-pot, jewel, jam,Darling, delicate-dear-delight,Angel-o’-red, angel-o’-white,Queen of beauty, and suchlike names;In fact all manner of darts and flames!Of course, while he keeps up this wooingHis education goes to ruin:What are his prospects in future life,With only a doll for his lawful wife?It is feared his parents’ hearts will break!And there’s one remark I wish to make:I may be wrong, but it seems a pityFor a movable doll to be made too pretty.An old-fashioned doll, that is not like nature,Can never pass for a human creature;It is in a doll that moves her eyesThat the danger of these misfortunes lies!The lover’s name must be suppressedFor obvious reasons. He lives out west,And if I call him Pygmalion Pout,I don’t believe you will find him out!
Thisis the doll with respect to whomA story is told that ends in gloom;For there was a sensitive little sirWent out of his mind for love of her!
They pulled a wire, she moved her eye;They squeezed the bellows, they made her cry;But the boy could never be persuadedThat these were really things whichtheydid.
“My Dolladine,” he said, “has life;I love her, and she shall be my wife;Dainty delicate Dolladine,The prettiest girl that ever was seen!”
To give his passion a chance to cool,They sent the lover to boarding-school.But absence only made it worse—He never learnt anything, prose or verse!
He drew her likeness on his slate;His Grammar was in adreadfulstate,With Dolladine all over the edges,And true-love knots, and vows, and pledges.
What was the consequence?—Doctor WhackBegged of his parents to take him back.When his condition, poor boy, was seen,Too late, they sent for Dolladine.
And now he will never part with her:He calls her lily, and rose, and myrrh,Dolly-o’-diamonds, precious lamb,Humming-bird, honey-pot, jewel, jam,
Darling, delicate-dear-delight,Angel-o’-red, angel-o’-white,Queen of beauty, and suchlike names;In fact all manner of darts and flames!
Of course, while he keeps up this wooingHis education goes to ruin:What are his prospects in future life,With only a doll for his lawful wife?
It is feared his parents’ hearts will break!And there’s one remark I wish to make:I may be wrong, but it seems a pityFor a movable doll to be made too pretty.
An old-fashioned doll, that is not like nature,Can never pass for a human creature;It is in a doll that moves her eyesThat the danger of these misfortunes lies!
The lover’s name must be suppressedFor obvious reasons. He lives out west,And if I call him Pygmalion Pout,I don’t believe you will find him out!
Thisis the way we dress the Doll:—You may make her a shepherdess, the Doll,If you give her a crook with a pastoral hook,But this is the way we dress the Doll.Chorus:Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,But do not crumple and mess the Doll!This is the way we dress the Doll.First, you observe her little chemise,As white as milk, with ruches of silk;And the little drawers that cover her knees,As she sits or stands, with golden bands,And lace in beautiful filagrees.Chorus:Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,But do not crumple or mess the Doll!This is the way we dress the Doll.Now these are the bodies: she has two,One of pink, with ruches of blue,And sweet white lace; be careful, do!And one of green, with buttons of sheen,Buttons and bands of gold, I mean,With lace on the border in lovely order,The most expensive we can afford her!Chorus:Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,But do not crumple or mess the Doll!This is the way we dress the Doll.Then, with black at the border, jacket;And this—and this—she will not lack it;Skirts? Why, there are skirts, of course,And shoes and stockings we shall enforce,With a proper bodice, in the proper place(Stays that lace have had their daysAnd made their martyrs); likewise garters,All entire. But our desireIs to show you her night attire,At least a part of it. Pray admireThis sweet white thing that she goes to bed in!It’s not the one that’s made for her wedding;Thatis special, a new design,Made with a charm and a countersign,Three times three and nine times nine:These are only her usual clothes:Look,there’sa wardrobe! gracious knowsIt’s pretty enough, as far as it goes!So you see the way we dress the Doll:You might make her a shepherdess, the Doll,If you gave her a crook with a pastoral hook,With sheep, and a shed, and a shallow brook,And all that, out of the poetry-book.Chorus:Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,But do not crumple and mess the Doll!This is the way we dress the Doll;If you had not seen, could you guess the Doll?
Thisis the way we dress the Doll:—You may make her a shepherdess, the Doll,If you give her a crook with a pastoral hook,But this is the way we dress the Doll.Chorus:Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,But do not crumple and mess the Doll!This is the way we dress the Doll.First, you observe her little chemise,As white as milk, with ruches of silk;And the little drawers that cover her knees,As she sits or stands, with golden bands,And lace in beautiful filagrees.Chorus:Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,But do not crumple or mess the Doll!This is the way we dress the Doll.Now these are the bodies: she has two,One of pink, with ruches of blue,And sweet white lace; be careful, do!And one of green, with buttons of sheen,Buttons and bands of gold, I mean,With lace on the border in lovely order,The most expensive we can afford her!Chorus:Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,But do not crumple or mess the Doll!This is the way we dress the Doll.Then, with black at the border, jacket;And this—and this—she will not lack it;Skirts? Why, there are skirts, of course,And shoes and stockings we shall enforce,With a proper bodice, in the proper place(Stays that lace have had their daysAnd made their martyrs); likewise garters,All entire. But our desireIs to show you her night attire,At least a part of it. Pray admireThis sweet white thing that she goes to bed in!It’s not the one that’s made for her wedding;Thatis special, a new design,Made with a charm and a countersign,Three times three and nine times nine:These are only her usual clothes:Look,there’sa wardrobe! gracious knowsIt’s pretty enough, as far as it goes!So you see the way we dress the Doll:You might make her a shepherdess, the Doll,If you gave her a crook with a pastoral hook,With sheep, and a shed, and a shallow brook,And all that, out of the poetry-book.Chorus:Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,But do not crumple and mess the Doll!This is the way we dress the Doll;If you had not seen, could you guess the Doll?
Thisis the way we dress the Doll:—You may make her a shepherdess, the Doll,If you give her a crook with a pastoral hook,But this is the way we dress the Doll.
Chorus:Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,But do not crumple and mess the Doll!This is the way we dress the Doll.
First, you observe her little chemise,As white as milk, with ruches of silk;And the little drawers that cover her knees,As she sits or stands, with golden bands,And lace in beautiful filagrees.
Chorus:Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,But do not crumple or mess the Doll!This is the way we dress the Doll.
Now these are the bodies: she has two,One of pink, with ruches of blue,And sweet white lace; be careful, do!And one of green, with buttons of sheen,Buttons and bands of gold, I mean,With lace on the border in lovely order,The most expensive we can afford her!
Chorus:Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,But do not crumple or mess the Doll!This is the way we dress the Doll.
Then, with black at the border, jacket;And this—and this—she will not lack it;Skirts? Why, there are skirts, of course,And shoes and stockings we shall enforce,With a proper bodice, in the proper place(Stays that lace have had their daysAnd made their martyrs); likewise garters,All entire. But our desireIs to show you her night attire,At least a part of it. Pray admireThis sweet white thing that she goes to bed in!It’s not the one that’s made for her wedding;Thatis special, a new design,Made with a charm and a countersign,Three times three and nine times nine:These are only her usual clothes:Look,there’sa wardrobe! gracious knowsIt’s pretty enough, as far as it goes!
So you see the way we dress the Doll:You might make her a shepherdess, the Doll,If you gave her a crook with a pastoral hook,With sheep, and a shed, and a shallow brook,And all that, out of the poetry-book.
Chorus:Bless the Doll, you may press the Doll,But do not crumple and mess the Doll!This is the way we dress the Doll;If you had not seen, could you guess the Doll?