

Her china cup is white and thin;
A thousand times her heart has been
                        Made  merry at it’s scalloped brink;
                        And in the bottom, painted pink,
A dragon greets her with a grin.
The brim her kisses loves to win;
The handle is a manikin,
            Who spies the foes that chip or chink
                                    Her china cup.
Muse, tell me if it be a sin:
I watch her lift it past her chin
                        Up to the scarlet lips and drink
The oolong draught, somehow I think
I’d like to be the dragon in
                                    Her china cup.
By Frank Dempster Sherman