Skip to main content
I. The D OLL U PON THE T OPMOST B OUGH

This doll upon the topmost bough,
This playmate-gift, in Christmas dress,
Was taken down and brought to me
One sleety night most comfortless.

Her hair was gold, her dolly-sash
Was gray brocade, most good to see.
The dear toy laughed, and I forgot
The ill the new year promised me.
Rate this poem
No votes yet
Reviews
No reviews yet.