She gives me the impression I am at my worst that day.
And the hat that was imported (and that cost me half a sonnet),
With just one glance from her round eye, becomes a Bowery bonnet.
She is always bright and smiling, sharp and shining for a thrust—
Use does not seem to blunt her point, nor does she gather rust—
Oh! I wish some hapless specimen of mankind would begin
To tidy up the world for me, by picking up this pin.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
