Was she a woman by true virtue blessed

Or but a gilded gleam of beauty’s light,

A radiant sylph by wealth and fame caressed,

A princess praised to heights by courtly might?

No, she was none of these I will assure

Yet still a woman steadfast, pure, and true;

Of flatteries misplaced she would demur,

Nor any harsh rebuke did she pursue.

She feared not love and calmly weathered hate,

Her daily actions always duty bound,

Content to bear the fickle yoke of fate—

And tread with grace upon life’s tempered ground.

A consort of the soul to steer the course—

To give sound comfort, be things well or worse.