The Foolish Virgin
Nora Hopper Chesson
1871 to 1906
I was a maid was never wise;
I showed my heart to all men's eyes.
That they might take or they might leave,
I wore my heart upon my sleeve.
I bade the fluttering thing lie down,
And served it on my wedding gown;
I sewed it with a thread of silk,
'Mid wedding laces white as milk.
But for my heart woe's me! woe's me
That such sore grief could ever be!
For thieves (on them may Fortune frown!)
Broke in and stole my wedding gown.
They stole the white thing and the red-
My heart and gown; and left instead
Only a bitter dream to keep
The open ivory gates of sleep.
Nora Hopper Chesson's The Foolish Virgin
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