A Blest Quartet

No smiling sun in loving June

     E’er shone upon two such as they;

The one like Grecian marble hewn,

     The other fair as dawn of day.

And sisters, too, of wealth and fame;

     Two brilliant stars o’er fashions whirl.

And each how fitted to her name –

     The one was Rose, the other Pearl.

And Rose was queen amongst her kind,

     While Pearl, the classic scholar said,

A living statue was designed,

     To worship here, to love when dead.

Men did worship, yet did not bare

     Their hearts before her      gaze;

While Rose, the gay and debonair,

     Stood ‘neath a shower of love and praise.

In course of time rich brothers, two,

     Of lofty rank and Royal air,

Sought Rose and Pearl, and soon there grew

     A double love, which promised fair.

Each one was princely in his way,

     Each to his love bowed as a slave;

They differed likewise, strange to say,

     One debonair, the other grave.

Gay Percy lived for blithesome Rose,

     Grave Harold on Pearl’s wisdom fed;

And at the marriage bell’s repose,

     “A blessed quartet”, the kingdom said.

As time wore on, and love’s young dream

     Awoke to life and earnestness,

A flash of truth, a frightful gleam,

     Burst on the fair with vivid stress.

Gay Percy tired of mirth and whirl,

     And longed for Pearl’s more quiet way;

While grave Harold wearied of Pearl,

     And worshiped Rose, his “dawn of day”.

The sisters were but human, too,

     And saw the dreadful e’er likewise,

But strove to hide, the long days through,

     The thought of life-long sacrifice.

Till, one day, Harold plucked his Rose,

     Then Percy with his idol fled;

And, at the startled day’s repose,

     “A sad, sad thing,” the kingdom said.

July 31, ‘91