"Little girl, little girl, where have you been?
Gathering roses to give to the queen.
Little girl, little girl, what gave she you?
She gave me a diamond as big as my shoe."
|If the old could share with the young
again,—
If worn could borrow of new,—
If faces could wear their roses again.
And hearts be sweetened with dew,—
If a child might bring the joy of a child,
And give it to us to-day,—
What glory of gem, or what weight of gold
Would we think too precious to pay?