( Poem #1884) A Southern Girl Her dimpled cheeks are pale;
She's a lily of the vale,
Not a rose.
In a muslin or a lawn
She is fairer than the dawn
To her beaux.
Her boots are slim and neat, --
She is vain about her feet,
It is said.
She amputates her r's,
But her eyes are like the stars
Overhead.
On a balcony at night,
With a fleecy cloud of white
Round her hair --
Her grace, ah, who could paint?
She would fascinate a saint,
I declare.
'Tis a matter of regret,
She's a bit of a coquette,
Whom I sing:
On her cruel path she goes
With a half a dozen beaux
To her string.
But let all that pass by,
As her maiden moments fly,
Dew-empearled;
When she marries, on my life,
She will make the dearest wife
In the world.
-- Samuel Minturn Peck |
Note: lawn: A light cotton or linen fabric of very fine weave.
[Middle English laun, after Laon, a city of northern France.]
This is a delightfully lighthearted poem, one that kept me smiling
throughout at its sheer, brazen refusal to take either itself or its
subject seriously. Furthermore (apart from the wonderful "half a dozen beaux
to her string" pun, and the reference to "amputated" 'r's) the humour seems
to lie almost entirely in the tone of the poem - no mean feat, considering
how many works of this sort either slip into a more heavy-handed sort of
mockery, or go the more "explicit humour" route.
Note, also, the wonderfully lilting rhythm of the poem - something that drew
me in from the first verse, even before I noticed Peck's gentle humour.
Again, it takes an excellent ear and a very deft touch to keep the poem from
being annoyingly sing-song. All in all, it was just enjoyable to read a poem
clearly written for the sheer fun of writing poetry, but written nonetheless
with excellent attention paid to style and detail.
martin
Links:
There is a brief biography here:
[broken link] http://www.pddoc.com/poems/#peck
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