I am ashamed’—I hide’—
What right have I’—to be a Bride’—
So late a Dowerless Girl’—
Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face’—
No one to teach me that new Grace’—
Nor introduce’—my Soul’—
Me to adorn’—How’—tell’—
Trinket’—to make Me beautiful’—
Fabrics of Cashmere’—
Never a Gown of Dun’—more’—
Raiment instead’—of Pompadour’—
For Me’—My soul’—to wear’—
Fingers’—to frame my Round Hair
Oval’—as Feudal Ladies wore’—
Far Fashions’—Fair’—
Skill to hold my Brow like an Earl’—
Plead’—like a Whippoorwill’—
Prove’—like a Pearl’—
Then, for Character’—
Fashion My Spirit quaint’—white’—
Quick’—like a Liquor’—
Gay’—like Light’—
Bring Me my best Pride’—
No more ashamed’—
No more to hide’—
Meek’—let it be’—too proud’—for Pride’—
Baptized’—this Day’—a Bride’—

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lilianacruzguillen@hotmail.com Julieta Echeverria Daymond R Robinson Laura Alaniz K. N. Martin @rlenrm (regueiro mas)