An Old Love

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Priscilla, Auntie's promised me
  A brand-new Paris doll;
And though I love you, yet you see
  I cannot keep you all.

Nursey declares I really must
  Throw one of you away;
And you're the oldest, so I trust
  You will not care to stay.

You've lost an arm, your dress is torn,
  Your wig is all awry;
Priscilla, you are so forlorn,
  We'll have to say good-by.

And yet--oh, don't! my dolly dear,
  _Don't_ look so sad, I pray!
You precious dolly, come right here,
  You _shan't_ be thrown away!

You're ragged, yes, and lame and blind,
  You're really but a wreck;
But, dear Priscilla, never mind,
  _I_ do not care a speck.

Your eyes do nicely when they're shut,
  And I can mend the rest;
Well--p'raps I'll love the new one--but
  I'll always love _you_ best.

© Carolyn Wells