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.”