>>1137üjas'ın sevdiğim bir şiirini buraya atayım öyleyse
I.
At Two, she is a tiny lass,
And joy she scarcely knows from sorrow;
She scarce consults her looking-glass;
She has no thought of sad tomorrow!
II.
At Four she is a merry maid,
And looks on aught but play as folly;
She can't believe bright flowers fade–
That only sawdust is her dolly.
III.
At Eight, her troubles come in scores,
For oft she is perverse and haughty;
A pouting puss in pinafores–
Who's sometimes whipped when she is naughty!
IV.
At Twelve, she is a saucy teaze,
Who knows full well her glances rankle;
Her petticoats scarce veil her knees,
And fairy frills scarce kiss her ankle.
V .
At Fifteen, she's the pearl of pets,
And feels assured her pow'r is strengthened;
Her snowy school-girl trouserettes
Are hidden when her skirt is lengthened.
VI.
At Sixteen, she's the sweetest sweet,
And dresses in the height of fashion;
She feels her heart 'neath bodice beat,
In earnest for the tender passion.
VII.
At Eighteen, p'r'aps she may be sold
Her lot to share, for worse or better;
She'll either sell her heart for gold–
Or give it for a golden fetter!