"Dear me! what signifies a pin! <br />I'll leave it on the floor; <br />My pincushion has others in, <br />Mamma has plenty more: <br />A miser will I never be," <br />Said little heedless Emily. <br /> <br />So tripping on to giddy play, <br />She left the pin behind, <br />For Betty's broom to whisk away, <br />Or some one else to find; <br />She never gave a thought, indeed, <br />To what she might to-morrow need. <br /> <br />Next day a party was to ride, <br />To see an air-balloon! <br />And all the company beside <br />Were dress'd and ready soon: <br />But she, poor girl, she could not stir, <br />For just a pin to finish her. <br /> <br />'Twas vainly now, with eye and hand, <br />She did to search begin; <br />There was not onenot one, the band <br />Of her pelisse to pin! <br />She cut her pincushion in two, <br />But not a pin had slidden through! <br /> <br />At last, as hunting on the floor, <br />Over a crack she lay, <br />The carriage rattled to the door, <br />Then rattled fast away. <br />Poor Emily! she was not in, <br />For want of justa single pin! <br /> <br />There's hardly anything so small, <br />So trifling or so mean, <br />That we may never want at all, <br />For service unforseen: <br />And those who venture wilful waste, <br />May woeful want expect to taste.<br /><br />Ann Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-pin/
