Classic Poem

Fontaine's young heiress took the name
Of Sadie, one he deemed
Was not too common, or too tame;
But it to me has seemed,
A name with more romance allied
Could just as well have been supplied.
To charming women name is much,
Since men delight to lisp all such
In accents mild and low and sweet
When empty nothings they repeat;
For love, although 'tis but a trance,
Must have all things in consonance.
The name, the form, the face, the voice,
With mental gifts, determine choice,
And make the man the willing tool
Of her who deems him god or fool.
Young Sadie was a gem, 'tis true,
The like of which we find but few
Existing to the sight of men
Or dancing on the poet's pen.
Her lips were such as gods would kiss
And deem it cream of earthly bliss;
Her eyes were such as through us thrill
The magic of a ruling will,
To which we yield with one accord
Our " right divine " as woman's lord.
Yet, we but make a beauty plain
When we attempt to it explain,
But all, and more than I have said,
Had pierced the heart and turned the head
Of one at least — Maurice Lefair —
For he it was who loved this rare
Young charmer of our Southern clime,
This meteor beauty of the time.
His love was of the furious kind
That robs a man of lucid mind:
For he was born wild passion's child,
And had from baby days been spoiled —
Untaught to curb his fretful ire,
Allowed each whim of his desire;
Manhood to him was childhood o'er,
His will less subject than before.
For him to love was to be mad,
Until possession made him glad.