Well, Miss, I wonder where you live, <br />I wonder what’s your name, <br />I wonder how you came to be <br />In such a stylish frame; <br />Perhaps you were a favorite child, <br />Perhaps an only one; <br />Perhaps your friends were not aware <br />You had your portrait done. <br /> <br />Yet you must be a harmless soul; <br />I cannot think that Sin <br />Would care to throw his loaded dice, <br />With such a stake to win; <br />I cannot think you would provoke <br />The poet’s wicked pen, <br />Or make young women bite their lips, <br />Or ruin fine young men. <br /> <br />Pray, did you ever hear, my love, <br />Of boys that go about, <br />Who, for a very trifling sum, <br />Will snip one’s picture out? <br />I’m not averse to red and white, <br />But all things have their place, <br />I think a profile cut in black <br />Would suit your style of face! <br /> <br />I love sweet features; I will own <br />That I should like myself <br />To see my portrait on a wall, <br />Or bust upon a shelf; <br />But nature sometimes makes one up <br />Of such sad odds and ends, <br />It really might be quite as well <br />Hushed up among one’s friends!<br /><br />Oliver Wendell Holmes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-the-portrait-of/
