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MY LADY
[Welland Telegraph November 19, 1903]
She walks unnoticed in the street;
The casual eye
Sees nothing in her, fair or sweet;
The world goes by
Unconscious that an angel’s feet
Are passing nigh.
She little has of beauty’s wealth;
Truth will allow
Only her priceless youth and health,
Her broad white brow;
Yet grows she on the heart by stealth
I scarce know how.
She does a thousand kindly things
That no one knows;
A loving woman’s heart she brings
To human woes;
And to her face the sunlight clings
Where’er she goes.
And so she walks her quiet ways
With that content
That only comes to sinless days
And innocent
A life devoid of fame or praise,
Yet nobly spent.
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