Dora Sigerson Shorter

“ And there she met neither man nor maid
⁠Who ever her face did know.
And lo! she saw set a wedding feast,
⁠And tall by her own love's side
There leaned a maiden, all young and fair,
⁠Who never should be his bride. ”

“ He kissed her twice on her faded cheek,
⁠And thrice on her snow-white hair.
“And this is my own true wife,” he said
⁠To the guests who gathered there.
“Oh she is withered and old,” they cried,
⁠“And her hair is pale as snow.
'Twere better you took the fair young girl,
⁠And let the sad old love go.”
“I will not marry the fair young girl.
⁠No woman I wed but this,
The sweet white rose of her cheek,” said he,
⁠“Shall redden beneath my kiss.
“There is no beauty in all the land
⁠That can with her face compare.” ”