Classic Poem

Who has not had an uncle
That once upon a day
Was captain of a trader
'Twixt Boston and Cathay?

Small mandarins of ivory
And many a carven whim
To lade our parlour what-nots,
He smuggled home with him.

But in our fond affections
That relative made good,
Chiefly, by contributions
Of things in sandalwood.

Though lacquer bowls be scattered,
Fans, boxes, gone to smash,
And what-nots loom encrusted
With unromantic trash —

Deep in our grown-up bosoms
The childish wonder starts,
When sandalwood aroma
Comes knocking at our hearts!