Poems (Freston)/Mistress Charity
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MISTRESS CHARITY
TO JANE STEWART IN YE EARLY TROUBLE
Dainty Mistress Charity,
Fair and beauteous rarity!
Maiden with the heart of gold that leaves no heart unmoved,
Nature, in a happy mood, showered all her best gifts on thee,
Then on a sunbeam sent thee to the earth just to be loved.
Cold hearts grow warm
And old hearts young
And young hearts thrill and tremble,
When they feel the tender magic of each merry look and tone,
And lips unused to praying often murmur "Heaven bless her."
As you bend in gentle greeting with a sweet grace all your own.
What wonder that we love thee,
Dainty Mistress Charity!
Fair and beauteous rarity!
Maiden with the heart of gold that leaves no heart unmoved,
Nature, in a happy mood, showered all her best gifts on thee,
Then on a sunbeam sent thee to the earth just to be loved.
Cold hearts grow warm
And old hearts young
And young hearts thrill and tremble,
When they feel the tender magic of each merry look and tone,
And lips unused to praying often murmur "Heaven bless her."
As you bend in gentle greeting with a sweet grace all your own.
What wonder that we love thee,
Dainty Mistress Charity!
Dainty Mistress Charity!
Fair and beauteous rarity!
Cupid shoots his arrows from each tender dusky tress,
From thy glances they fly straight into each heart that's left unguarded,
And even from the soft folds of thy dainty satin dress.
Thy dancing feet trip lightly
And thy blue eyes sparkle brightly,
And laughter lurks, half hidden, in the soft curves of thy mouth,
Thy brow is white and even, with that look that is God-given,
And thy voice holds more of music than the song birds of the South.
What wonder that I love thee!
Winsome, gracious Charity!
Fair and beauteous rarity!
Cupid shoots his arrows from each tender dusky tress,
From thy glances they fly straight into each heart that's left unguarded,
And even from the soft folds of thy dainty satin dress.
Thy dancing feet trip lightly
And thy blue eyes sparkle brightly,
And laughter lurks, half hidden, in the soft curves of thy mouth,
Thy brow is white and even, with that look that is God-given,
And thy voice holds more of music than the song birds of the South.
What wonder that I love thee!
Winsome, gracious Charity!