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TO THE EASTER HAT
[Welland Telegraph April 17, 1903]
Oh, fit,
Of Fancy, fuzz, film and fluff,
And feathers, film and fluff.
Upon a head as light as you;
Oh, delicatessen dream,
Of dowager and doll;
Oh, millinered melody
Of matron and of maid;
Oh rapturous bunch of botany
Bedixening womankind,
How beautiful you are,
Poised on the tresses
Touched with glinting gold,
Or sunset kissed,
Or richly brown as Mother Earth
Now flushed with budding spring;
Or fair as streaming strands
Of soft-spun silver silk!
Man’s fascinated eyes
Are fixed on you.
And, lost in admiration of your
charms.
He quite forgets
How great the cost of beauty is.
Set like a crown
Of fairy filigree
Above a face an angel would
Give heaven for
You diadem an Easter Queen
With all the glories
Of the Easter morn,
And make a halo
Look like thirty cents.
You are a poem
Wrought in wire and lace,
And fabric fragile
As the poet’s dream,
Illumined by the tints and shades
That painters breathe
Into the pictures of their souls,
Your harmony of hues holds fast
The fancies of the frenzies of
The limner’s spirit and its score
And light divides itself
In seven times seven spectrum tones
To make your color scheme
A brilliant, bursting
Blazonry of bloom.
The sculptor’s sorcery seeks
All shapes
Or earth and air and sky,
And frost and sunny time,
And molds all lines of figure
Into you.
Oh! Easter hat;
Oh! fleeting flash
That fulminates
The flowery charge of spring
And bursts it it bloom
That fills
The circumambient air
With rainbow remnants
Multiplied a million times;
Oh! Easter hat,
Infinity
Of shape and size
Of colorature and cost;
Oh! Easter hat
Oh! promised praise and prayer
Of woman’s love and hope,
Oh! say,
Are you on straight?
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