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Paul Laurence Dunbar - Dinah Kneading Dough
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I have seen full many a sight
  Born of day or drawn by night:
  Sunlight on a silver stream,
  Golden lilies all a-dream,
  Lofty mountains, bold and proud,
  Veiled beneath the lacelike cloud;
  But no lovely sight I know
  Equals Dinah kneading dough.

  Brown arms buried elbow-deep
  Their domestic rhythm keep,
  As with steady sweep they go
  Through the gently yielding dough.
  Maids may vaunt their finer charms--
  Naught to me like Dinah`s arms;
  Girls may draw, or paint, or sew--
  I love Dinah kneading dough.

  Eyes of jet and teeth of pearl,
  Hair, some say, too tight a-curl;
  But the dainty maid I deem
  Very near perfection`s dream.
  Swift she works, and only flings
  Me a glance--the least of things.
  And I wonder, does she know
  That my heart is in the dough?
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