Where have they gone to-the little girls <br />With natural manners and natural curls; <br />Who love their dollies and like their toys, <br />And talk of something besides the boys? <br /> <br /> <br />Little old women in plenty I find, <br />Mature in manners and old of mind; <br />Little old flirts who talk of their 'beaux,' <br />And vie with each other in stylish clothes. <br /> <br /> <br />Little old belles who, at nine and ten, <br />Are sick of pleasure and tired of men; <br />Weary of travel, of balls, of fun, <br />And find no new thing under the sun. <br /> <br /> <br />Once, in the beautiful long ago, <br />Some dear little children I used to know; <br />Girls who were merry as lambs at play, <br />And laughed and rollicked the livelong day. <br /> <br /> <br />They thought not at all of the 'style' of their clothes, <br />They never imagined that boys were 'beaux'- <br />'Other girls' brothers' and 'mates' were they, <br />Splendid fellows to help them play. <br /> <br /> <br />Where have they gone to? If you see <br />One of them anywhere send her to me. <br />I would give a medal of purest gold <br />To one of those dear little girls of old, <br />With an innocent heart and an open smile, <br />Who knows not the meaning of 'flirt' or 'style.'<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wanted-a-little-girl/
