Poor, pretty little thing she was,
    The sweetest-faced of girls,
    With eyes as blue as larkspurs,
    And a mass of tossing curls;
    But her step-mother had for her
    Only blows and bitter words,
    While she thought her own two ugly crows,
    The whitest of all birds.

    She was the little household drudge,
    And wore a cotton gown,
    While the sisters, clad in silk and satin,
    Flaunted through the town.
    When her work was done, her only place
    Was the chimney-corner bench.
    For which one called her "Cinderella,"
    The other, "Cinder-wench."

    But years went on, and Cinderella
    Bloomed like a wild-wood rose,
    In spite of all her kitchen-work,
    And her common, dingy clothes;
    While the two step-sisters, year by year,
    Grew scrawnier and plainer;
    Two peacocks, with their tails outspread,
    Were never any vainer.

    One day they got a note, a pink,
    Sweet-scented, crested one,
    Which was an invitation
    To a ball, from the king's son.
    Oh, then poor Cinderella
    Had to starch, and iron, and plait,
    And run of errands, frill and crimp,
    And ruffle, early and late.

    And when the ball-night came at last,
    She helped to paint their faces,
    To lace their satin shoes, and deck
    Them up with flowers and laces;
    Then watched their coach roll grandly
    Out of sight; and, after that,
    She sat down by the chimney,
    In the cinders, with the cat,

    And sobbed as if her heart would break.
    Hot tears were on her lashes,
    Her little hands got black with soot,
    Her feet begrimed with ashes,
    When right before her, on the hearth,
    She knew not how nor why,
    A little odd old woman stood,
    And said, "Why do you cry?"

    "It is so very lonely here,"
    Poor Cinderella said,
    And sobbed again. The little odd
    Old woman bobbed her head,
    And laughed a merry kind of laugh,
    And whispered, "Is that all?
    Wouldn't my little Cinderella
    Like to go to the ball?

    "Run to the garden, then, and fetch
    A pumpkin, large and nice;
    Go to the pantry shelf, and from
    The mouse-traps get the mice;
    Rats you will find in the rat-trap;
    And, from the watering-pot,
    Or from under the big, flat garden stone,
    Six lizards must be got."

    Nimble as crickets in the grass
    She ran, till it was done,
    And then God-mother stretched her wand
    And touched them every one.
    The pumpkin changed into a coach,
    Which glittered as it rolled,
    And the mice became six horses,
    With harnesses of gold.

    One rat a herald was, to blow
    A trumpet in advance,
    And the first blast that he sounded
    Made the horses plunge and prance;
    And the lizards were made footmen,
    Because they were so spry;
    And the old rat-coachman on the box
    Wore jeweled livery.

    And then on Cinderella's dress
    The magic wand was laid,
    And straight the dingy gown became
    A glistening gold brocade.
    The gems that shone upon her fingers
    Nothing could surpass;
    And on her dainty little feet
    Were slippers made of glass.

    "Be sure you get back here, my dear,
    At twelve o'clock at night,"
    Godmother said, and in a twinkling
    She was out of sight.
    When Cinderella reached the ball,
    And entered at the door,
    So beautiful a lady
    None had ever seen before.

    The Prince his admiration showed
    In every word and glance;
    He led her out to supper,
    And he chose her for the dance;
    But she kept in mind the warning
    That her Godmother had given,
    And left the ball, with all its charm.
    At just half after eleven.

    Next night there was another ball;
    She helped her sisters twain
    To pinch their waists, and curl their hair,
    And paint their cheeks again.
    Then came the fairy Godmother,
    And, with her wand, once more
    Arrayed her out in greater splendor
    Even than before.

    The coach and six, with gay outriders,
    Bore her through the street,
    And a crowd was gathered round to look,
    The lady was so sweet,--
    So light of heart, and face, and mien,
    As happy children are;
    And when her foot stepped down,
    Her slipper twinkled like a star.

    Again the Prince chose only her
    For waltz or tete-a-tete;
    So swift the minutes flew she did not
    Dream it could be late,
    But all at once, remembering
    What her Godmother had said,
    And hearing twelve begin to strike
    Upon the clock, she fled.

    Swift as a swallow on the wing
    She darted, but, alas!
    Dropped from one flying foot the tiny
    Slipper made of glass;
    But she got away, and well it was
    She did, for in a trice
    Her coach changed to a pumpkin,
    And her horses became mice;

    And back into the cinder dress
    Was changed the gold brocade!
    The prince secured the slipper,
    And this proclamation made:
    That the country should be searched,
    And any lady, far or wide,
    Who could get the slipper on her foot,
    Should straightway be his bride.

    So every lady tried it,
    With her "Mys!" and "Ahs!" and "Ohs!"
    And Cinderella's sisters pared
    Their heels, and pared their toes,--
    But all in vain! Nobody's foot
    Was small enough for it,
    Till Cinderella tried it,
    And it was a perfect fit.

    Then the royal heralds hardly
    Knew what it was best to do,
    When from out her tattered pocket
    Forth she drew the other shoe,
    While the eyelids on the larkspur eyes
    Dropped down a snowy vail,
    And the sisters turned from pale to red,
    And then from red to pale,

    And in hateful anger cried, and stormed,
    And scolded, and all that,
    And a courtier, without thinking,
    Tittered out behind his hat.
    For here was all the evidence
    The Prince had asked, complete,
    Two little slippers made of glass,
    Fitting two little feet.

    So the Prince, with all his retinue,
    Came there to claim his wife;
    And he promised he would love her
    With devotion all his life.
    At the marriage there was splendid
    Music, dancing, wedding cake;
    And he kept the slipper as a treasure
    Ever, for her sake.
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Submitted by halel on July 15, 2020

Modified on March 05, 2023

5:09 min read

Quick analysis:

Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 6,105
Words 1,023
Stanzas 22
Stanza Lengths 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8

Clara Doty Bates

Clara Doty Bates was an American author. She was well known as a writer and published a number of volumes of poetry and juvenile literature. Many of these works were illustrated, the designs being furnished by her sister more…

All Clara Doty Bates poems | Clara Doty Bates Books

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    "Cinderella." STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Jun 2024. <>.

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