HER leghorn hat has rows on rows Of ribbon, tied with charming bows. The crown is wreathed in dainty green, And from their leaves there peep between Some rosebuds white as winter snows. The brim's so large, whene'er it blows, Her face is hid from friends and foes, As all must know who once have seen Her leghorn hat. I wonder why it droops and flows About her face; howe'er she pose, It always serves her as a screen: I cannot guess, and yet I ween It keeps the freckles from her nose, Her leghorn hat. |