“We knew thee from thy childhood, princely maid;
We watched thy growing greatness hour by hour:
Palm‐like thy Faith uprose: beneath its shade
Successive every virtue came to flower.
“Good‐will was thine, like fount that overflows
Its marge, and clothes with green the thirsty sod:
Good thoughts, like angels, from thy bosom rose,
And winged through golden airs their way to God.
“To Goodness, Reverence, Honor, from the first
Thy soul was vowed. It was that spiritual troth
That fitted maid for wife, and in her nursed
The woman’s heart—not years nor outward growth.
“Walk with the holy women praised of old
Who served their God and sons heroic bore:—”
Thus sang the minstrels, touching harps of gold
While maidens wreathed with flowers the bridal door.