AH, Mary! what, do you for dolly not care? <br />And why is she left on the floor? <br />Forsaken, and cover'd with dust, I declare; <br />With you I must trust her no more. <br /> <br />I thought you were pleased, as you took her so gladly, <br />When on your birthday she was sent; <br />Did I ever suppose you would use her so sadly? <br />Was that, do you think, what I meant? <br /> <br />With her bonnet of straw you once were delighted, <br />And trimm'd it so pretty with pink; <br />But now it is crumpled, and dolly is slighted: <br />Her nurse quite forgets her, I think. <br /> <br />Suppose now–for Mary is dolly to me, <br />Whom I love to see tidy and fair– <br />Suppose I should leave you, as dolly I see, <br />In tatters, and comfortless there. <br /> <br />But dolly feels nothing, as you do, my dear, <br />Nor cares for her negligent nurse: <br />If I were as careless as you are, I fear, <br />Your lot, and my fault, would be worse. <br /> <br />And therefore it is, in my Mary, I strive <br />To check every fault that I see: <br />Mary's doll is but waxen–mamma's is alive, <br />And of far more importance than she.<br /><br />Ann Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/negligent-mary/
