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Pine,
Rose and Fleur de Lis
by
Susie Frances Harrison
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L'ENVOI
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Friend,
these simple rhymes forgive!
I do not ask that they should live
In your memory or your mind;
If within your heart enshrin’d
I shall deem that Fate was kind.
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5 |
Simple,
nay, imperfect too,
Judge them—as you’re free to do.
But the while you lightly blame
Rhymes that bear a Gallic name,
Carping at the foreign metre,
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Thinking
English had been sweeter,
Let at least each sparkling rill,
Each quaint church upon a hill,
And a quainter people still
Charm you, friend, to near forgetting
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15 |
All
the poorness of the setting.
Read my cantefable chiefly
For its subject. Yet—and briefly—
Read it—’tis Montaigne’s own line—
“Not because ’tis good, but—mine.”
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20 |
Thus I send these fifty-two
Simple rhymes, my friend, to you.
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