Quiet, self-effacing craft; the needle's art
Knows care and discipline, not vanity.
It pleads no cause, unburdens not its heart,
Portraying truth with simple clarity.
What joy to rest the eye on pure design,
What artless gaiety in crimson thread,
How delicate the gold and silver line,
The sequins nestling in their silken bed.
Here slip-stitch, chain-stitch, satin-stitch entwine
And merge as single drops in common sea.
Here craft and colour, care and form combine
Tio show how many strands make unity.
Amongst the graces of our human race
Who can deny the gentle needle's place?
