A long time ago in Childhood’s Land,

A troop of sweet ladies I knew,

If the truth must be told, I myself

Was their lady’s maid, patient and true!

I served them, I dressed them, I took them to walk,

I made the fine clothes that they wore;

Very dainty,—and delicate, too, were they all,

For they never arose until four!

Wide were their flounces of crimson or white,

A little old fashioned for now;

Prim were their figures—ah, yes, I must own,

Their heads they never could bow!

Their heads were so round and so small and so green—

Not clever nor learnÈd were they;

But then, they were only Four o’Clock Ladies,

And their life, ’twas a short one and gay!