The Jeweller's Daughter

THE Jeweller's Daughter sat in her father's booth —
Gems, gold, and diamonds dazzled around:
"But the richest treasure I ever found,"
He lovingly whispered in her ear,
"O Helen, was and is, in sooth,
Thyself, my daughter dear!"

Thereon stepped into the Jeweller's booth a Knight,
A Knight of stately apparel and air —
"I greet thee, maiden young and fair!
I greet thee, Jeweller, courteouslie!
And make me a coronal rich and bright
For my bride that is to be."

Eftsoons, I ween, the glittering pearls were strung —
Was never beheld a brillianter show!
Poor Helen! she saw it, and sighed as though
Her youth and beauty had lost their charm;
Alas, poor Helen! she sighed as she hung
The ornament on her arm.

Ah! blest is the bride — supremely blest!" she said,
"Who, bright as a star, in the nuptial hall,
Shall wear this beautiful coronall!
Ah! would the Ritter but offer to me
A chaplet only of roses red,
How joyful I should be!"

Ere long came into the booth again the Knight —
"Thanks, worthy friend! — thy pearls outshine
The sparkling droplets of the mine:
Now make me, Jeweller, speedilie,
A ring, ingemrned with a chrysolite,
For my bride that is to be!"

Eftsoons was ready that gay gold ring, I ween,
And mildly shimmered its paler stone.
Alas, poor Helen! Left all alone,
She sighed anew as she tried the ring
On her own fair finger, where its sheen
In truth was a beauteous thing!

Ah! blest, she thought, how blest as a happy bride,
How doubly blest as a happy wife,
Is she who shall wear this ring for life!
Ah! would the Ritter but give to me
A lock of his hair and nought beside,
How joyful I should be!

Ere long the Knight appeared in the booth once more —
"O Jeweller! words are poor to praise
The taste and finish thy work displays;
A ring and a chaplet bright as these
Might lie on the loftiest shrine before
Which Love ever bent his knees!

"But as I would fain behold them dazzle and glow
From Beauty's finger and Beauty's brow,
Come hither, enchanting damsel, thou!
And let me try them first on thee;
So will they become my bride, I trow,
For thou art fair as she!

Now this, it chanced, was all on a Sunday morn;
And Helen, to meetly honour the day,
Had dressed herself in the prettiest way,
In the holiday garb of the burgher class,
The silken suit she had always worn,
"When going, as now, to Mass.

There, then, she stands in that graceful silken dress,
Deep blushes dyeing her face and neck:
Meanwhile, the Ritter proceeds to deck
With the wreath of pearls her flowing hair,
And draws, unheeding her bashfulness,
The ring on her finger fair.

Then, taking her hand in his he tenderly said,
"Helena dear, Helena sweet,
Forgive, I pray, this little deceit;
My heart has ever been thine alone,
And thou art the bride I hope to wed,
And the wreath and the ring are thine own!

"'Mid gold and gems, and all that's precious and rare,
The opal's hues and the ruby's blaze,
Thy lot has been cast from Childhood's days —
To thee be this a symbol and sign
That thou wert born to shine elsewhere —
Wert born to charm and shine!"