Classic Poem

Do you design that verse of mine
Should bring repute to you,
Or did you deem by such a scheme
To be a poet too?

Well, I suppose, the pearly rows
'Twixt Aegle's lips that glow,
Though purchased bone, she calls her own,
And thinks them truly so.

Lycoris, too, of mulberry hue
Believes — delusion fond —
The powder puff is quite enough
To make a lovely blonde.

Must we regard you as a bard?
Why, then I will admit
Your head has shocks of lovely locks
Without a hair on it.