A DAINTY bit of satin, A pencil poised in air, A pretty face upturned, A faint smile playing there. "A design for my card," quoth she, "Something sweet and rare; A bit of art with meaning, Exquisite, debonair." I seized the pencil quickly, And drew with reverend care The face I saw before me, -- The sweetest, rarest there. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PICKET-GUARD [NOVEMBER, 1861] by ETHEL LYNN BEERS AMERICA: SONNET 2 by SYDNEY THOMPSON DOBELL THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS by THOMAS MOORE FIREFLY; A SONG by ELIZABETH MADOX ROBERTS THE KING'S HAND by MUHAMMAD AL-MU'TAMID II RHAPSODY by MARTIN DONISTHORPE ARMSTRONG JOURNEY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |