The Pink Frock

“O MY pretty pink frock, I sha’n’t be able to wear it! Why is he dying just now? I hardly can bear it!

“He might have contrived to live on; But they say there’s no hope whatever: And must I shut myself up, And go out never?

“O my pretty pink frock, Puff-sleeved and accordion-pleated! He might have passed in July, And not so cheated!”