From the dining-room floor to the ceiling,
A palace of crystal and china, oh! fear
To exhibit an atom of feeling.
But your Satsuma bowl you will cheerfully bring,
And, where others would threaten to skin him,
You will beg him to do as he likes with the thing,
Lest you crush the creative within him.
If Lucy refuses potatoes and bread,
And calls for méringues and for trifle,
Or anything else that may enter her head,