THE PINK FROCK

“O my pretty pink frock,

I sha'n' t be able to wear it!

Why is he dying just now?

I hardly can bear it!

“He might have contrived to live on;

But they say there's no hope whatever:

And must I shut myself up,

And go out never?

“O my pretty pink frock,

Puff-sleeved and accordion-pleated!

He might have passed in July,

And not so cheated!”