"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?