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��THE WAXEN DOLL.

'HEN firft I flipt my leading firings to

pleafe her little Poll, My mother bought me at the fair a pretty waxen doll ; Such floe-black eyes, and cherry cheeks, the irmling

dear pofleft,

How could 1 ki'fs it oft enough or hug it to my breaft?

No fooner I could prattle it, as forward Mifles do, Then h^vv 1 long'd, and figh'd to hear my dolly

prattle to ; I curl'd her hair in ringlets neat, and drefs'd her very

g a y And yet the fulky hufly not a fy liable would fay.

Provok'd, that to my queftions kind, no anfwer I

could get,

1 (hook the little huffy well, and whipp'd her in a pet : My mother cry'd, oh ! fie upon't, pray let your doll

alone, If e'er you wifh to have a pretty baby of your o\\ n !

My head on this 1 bj idled, and threw the plaything by, Although my fitter inubb'd me for't I 'know the

rcafbn why I fancy fhe would wifli to keep the fweet-hearts all

her own ^ But that fhe fhan't, depend upon't, when I'm a woman

grown.

��THK

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