Classic Poem

The King of China's daughter
—So beautiful to see
With her face like yellow water,
—LefTher nutmeg tree.

Her little rope for skipping
—She skipped and gave it me—
Made of painted notes of singing-birds
—Among the fields of tea.

I skipped across the nutmeg grove,—
—I skipped across the sea;
But neither sun nor moon, my dear,
—Has yet caught me.