 | [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
THE ONLY ORNAMENT.
Even as a child too well she knew
Her lack of loveliness and grace;
So, like an unprized weed she grew,
Grudging the meanest flower its face.
Her lack of loveliness and grace;
So, like an unprized weed she grew,
Grudging the meanest flower its face.
Often with tears her sad eyes filled,
Watching the plainest birds that went
About her home to pair, and build
Their humble nests in sweet content.
Watching the plainest birds that went
About her home to pair, and build
Their humble nests in sweet content.
No melody was in her words;
You thought her, as she passed along,
As brown and homely as the birds
She envied, but without their song.
You thought her, as she passed along,
As brown and homely as the birds
She envied, but without their song.
She saw, and sighed to see how glad
Earth makes her fair and favored child;
While all the beauty that she had
Was in her smile, nor oft she smiled.
Earth makes her fair and favored child;
While all the beauty that she had
Was in her smile, nor oft she smiled.
So seasons passed her and were gone,
She musing by herself apart;
Till the vague longing that is known
To woman came into her heart.
She musing by herself apart;
Till the vague longing that is known
To woman came into her heart.
That feeling born when fancy teems
With all that makes this life a good,
Came to her, with its wondrous dreams,
That bless and trouble maidenhood.
With all that makes this life a good,
Came to her, with its wondrous dreams,
That bless and trouble maidenhood.
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She would have deemed it joy to sit
In any home, or great or small,
Could she have hoped to brighten it
For one who thought of her at all.
In any home, or great or small,
Could she have hoped to brighten it
For one who thought of her at all.
At night, or in some secret place,
She used to think, with tender pain,
How infants love the mother's face,
And know not if 't is fair or plain.
She used to think, with tender pain,
How infants love the mother's face,
And know not if 't is fair or plain.
She longed to feast her hungry eyes
On anything her own could please;
To sing soft, loving lullabies
To children lying on her knees.
On anything her own could please;
To sing soft, loving lullabies
To children lying on her knees.
And yet beyond the world she went,
Unmissed, as if she had not been,
Taking her only ornament,
A meek and quiet soul within.
Unmissed, as if she had not been,
Taking her only ornament,
A meek and quiet soul within.
None ever knew her heart was pained,
Or that she grieved to live unsought;
They deemed her cold and self-contained,
Contented in her realm of thought.
Or that she grieved to live unsought;
They deemed her cold and self-contained,
Contented in her realm of thought.
Her patient life, when it was o'er,
Was one that all the world approved;
Some marveled at, some pitied her,
But neither man nor woman loved.
Was one that all the world approved;
Some marveled at, some pitied her,
But neither man nor woman loved.
Even little children felt the same;
Were shy of her, from awe or fear;—
I wonder if she knew they came,
And scattered roses on her bier!
Were shy of her, from awe or fear;—
I wonder if she knew they came,
And scattered roses on her bier!
| [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |