Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


A PIN by ELLA WHEELER WILCOX

Poet Analysis

First Line: OH, I KNOW A CERTAIN WOMAN WHO IS RECKONED WITH THE GOOD
Last Line: TO TIDY UP THE WORLD FOR ME, BY PICKING UP THIS PIN.
Subject(s): COURTS & COURTIERS; DECEPTION; PINS; WIT & HUMOR; WOMEN;

OH, I know a certain woman who is reckoned with the good,
But she fills me with more terror than a raging lion would.
The little chills run up and down my spine when'er we meet,
Though she seems a gentle creature and she's very trim and neat.

And she has a thousand virtues and not one acknowledged sin,
But she is the sort of person you could liken to a pin,
And she pricks you, and she sticks you, in a way that can't be said --
When you seek for what has hurt you, why, you cannot find the head.

But she fills you with discomfort and exasperating pain --
If anybody asks you why, you really can't explain.
A pin is such a tiny thing, -- of that there is no doubt, --
Yet when it's sticking in your flesh, you're wretched till it's out!

She is wonderfully observing -- when she meets a pretty girl
She is always sure to tell her if her "bang" is out of curl.
And she is so sympathetic: to a friend, who's much admired,
She is often heard remarking, "Dear, you look so worn and tired!"

And she is a careful critic; for on yesterday she eyed
The new dress I was airing with a woman's natural pride,
And she said, "Oh, how becoming!" and then softly added, "It
Is really a misfortune that the basque is such a fit."

Then she said, "If you had heard me yestereve, I'm sure, my friend,
You would say I am a champion who knows how to defend."
And she left me with the feeling -- most unpleasant, I aver --
That the whole world would despise me if it had not been for her.

Whenever I encounter her, in such a nameless way
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 eyes becomes a Bowery bonnet.

She is always bright and smiling, sharp and shining for a thrust --
Use does not seem to blunt her point, not 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.



Home: PoetryExplorer.net