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