"This tiny Japanese lady, whom you left, as you thought, on the lid
of the glove-box at home."--_Sir Edwin Arnold, in Daily Telegraph._
EDWIN ARNOLD, Knight and Poet, vividly descriptive man,
I'm in love, and you must know it, with your _belle_ in far Japan.
Her _kimono_ looks so telling with sleeve swaying in the wind,
And the amber _obi_ swelling into satin bows behind.
Though her charming little nose is, you confess, a trifle flat,
When the lips are red as roses, who would stop to think of that?
Sunny smiles so sweet and simple, scornful cynic soul might win,
While a most bewitching dimple guards the fascinating chin.
Teeth the purest pearl outshining, shell-pink nails, and she will wear
Just one red camellia twining in her ebon wealth of hair.
Jet looks grey beside her tresses blacker than the murk midnight,
While the little hand that presses each coquettish curl shines white.
She is quite an _avis rara_, but her lips for me were dumb,
Though she murmured, "_Sayonara_," and again should bid me come.
If her fairy ears I frighten with the wild words of the West,
Surely love will come to lighten all the burden of my breast.
I will learn her awful lingo, if by any chance I can;
I'll despoil the gay flamingo to provide her with a fan.
She will note my admiration, smiling in a sweet surprise,
And there _can_ be conversation lovers learn 'twixt eyes and eyes.
Come what will, methinks I'll chance it, and for pretty things to say,
I will read up, during transit, all _The Light of Asia_.
Since, Sir EDWIN, dainty dreamer, thine the pen that bids me go,
By the fastest train and steamer, straightway off to Tokio.
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