There was a lady made of gold,
And at an auction she was sold.
She was a little lady wrought
In metal molded by a thought,
And had a faultless face, a form,
A gesture, an extended arm,
And in a mirror on a shelf
She pointed proudly at herself
As if to say to someone: “See,
What a man’s mind has made of me!”
“Take her away!”, the auctioneer
Bawled to a bidder in the rear,
A grand dame in a gaudy gown
Who paid a hundred dollars down,
And called her limousine and rolled
Off with the lady made of gold.
And oh, I wonder after that
What in the world she pointed at!
From Boundaries
