Classic Poem

I wonder where the fairies get
All those pretty things, my pet,
In pink, and pearl, and violet!

Coming like the honey-bees,
Bringing from the summer seas
The coral and the spiceries!

Out of what peculiar clay
Do they dig these dimples, say!
Dig more dimples in a day
Than a week could kiss away.

That must be a distaff rare
That can spin this sort of hair,
Sun-lit silk and — none to spare!

What old dainty brownie in
Her benevolence has been
" Illuminating " baby's skin

With these veinlets like a vine,
Traced in violet of wine
On vellum of a nectarine?

Bless you, Brownie! never let
Your cradle-charities upset —
There are " orders " for you yet!

" Eyes like these! — and lips like those! —
A little straighter in the nose! —
Less of pink and more of rose! "

Time to stop him! — here's a quiz,
Thinks he's wiser than he is,
Teaching fairyland its " biz " !