The child next door has a wreath on her hat; Her afternoon frock sticks out like that, All soft and frilly; She doesn't believe in fairies at all (She told me over the garden wall) -- She thinks they're silly. The child next door has a watch of her own; She has shiny hair and her name is Joan; (Mine's only Mary). But doesn't it seem very sad to you To think that she never her whole life through Has seen a fairy? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEA GODS: 1 by HILDA DOOLITTLE LAMENT by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE HIGH TIDE AT [OR, ON THE COAST OF] LINCOLNSHIRE by JEAN INGELOW AN OLD SWEETHEART [OF MINE] by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY GEORGE CRABBE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON ON THE DEATHS OF THOMAS CARLYLE AND GEORGE ELIOT by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 30. THE HUNTER CAUGHT BY HIS OWN GAMER by PHILIP AYRES |