Your work is faultless to the cultured view.
You do it well, but, O my able friend,
What is it that you do?”
THE PASTELLETTE.
“The pastelle is too strong,” said he.
“Lo! I will make it fainter yet!”
And he wrought with tepid ecstasy
A pastellette.
A touch—a word—a tone half caught—
He softly felt and handled them;