 | London lyrics |  |
91
LITTLE DINKY
(A RHYME OF LESS THAN ONE)
The hair she means to have is gold,
Her eyes are blue, she's twelve weeks old,
Plump are her fists and pinky.
She flutter'd down in lucky hour
From some blue deep in yon sky bower—
I call her Little Dinky.
Her eyes are blue, she's twelve weeks old,
Plump are her fists and pinky.
She flutter'd down in lucky hour
From some blue deep in yon sky bower—
I call her Little Dinky.
A Tiny now, ere long she'll please
To totter at my parent-knees,
And crow, and try to chatter:
And then she'll come to fair white frocks,
And frisk about in shoes and socks,—
Her totter changed to patter.
To totter at my parent-knees,
And crow, and try to chatter:
And then she'll come to fair white frocks,
And frisk about in shoes and socks,—
Her totter changed to patter.
And soon she'll play, ay, soon enough,
At cowslip-ball and blindman's buff;
And, some day, we shall find her
Grow weary of her toys, indeed
She'll fling them all aside to heed
A footstep close behind her!
At cowslip-ball and blindman's buff;
And, some day, we shall find her
Grow weary of her toys, indeed
92
A footstep close behind her!
So be it: may They both be rich
In all that's best—the joys with which
True-love can aye supply them—
Then, hand in hand, they'll sit them down
Right cheerfully, and let the Town,
This foolish Town, go by them.
In all that's best—the joys with which
True-love can aye supply them—
Then, hand in hand, they'll sit them down
Right cheerfully, and let the Town,
This foolish Town, go by them.
Dinky, I soon must pass the toys,
I've loved so well, to younger boys—
For I have had my warning.
Farewell to all the dear delight!
Content am I to say Goodnight,
And hope for better morning.
I've loved so well, to younger boys—
For I have had my warning.
Farewell to all the dear delight!
Content am I to say Goodnight,
And hope for better morning.
As I was climbing Ludgate Hill
I met a goose who dropt a quill,
You see my thumb is inky;
I fell to scribble there and then,
And this is how I came to pen,
This rhyme on Little Dinky.
I met a goose who dropt a quill,
You see my thumb is inky;
I fell to scribble there and then,
And this is how I came to pen,
This rhyme on Little Dinky.
1878.
| London lyrics | |