The Bridie Price of An Unfortunate Lady
THE BRIDIE PRICE OF AN UNFORTUNATE LADY
Quietly her love fathomed
The glittering incisor,
A puissant one unravished,
An aesthete affirmed.
Wide in comb of friend
A pilot stood aghast
In rapt marvel of a portrait.
With no joy of dislike he lust:
“I cheer a bride that loves my name;
Such that beckons cheerio in flight,
Behold her chuckling cheek
That calls a carcass alive.
Sir, mind me her love
And I shall yield gold for your care
This portrait moved me
I ogle her a wife”
In shambled voice of remorse
Thundered the hoary pa:
“This trophy of demise,
Here I pore over a piece of virtue and mourn.”
An artless astronaut sigh!
“I cherish her to the core!
And pay for such comeliness
And bids no wife alive.
An artist shall depict a jewel
And hang on my neck
In spirited honour and mourn;
I have her a myth than alive.”
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