AH, Mary! what, do you for dolly not care?
And why is she left on the floor?
Forsaken, and cover'd with dust, I declare;
With you I must trust her no more.
I thought you were pleased, as you took her so gladly,
When on your birthday she was sent;
Did I ever suppose you would use her so sadly?
Was that, do you think, what I meant?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem