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?