MARGARET LEE

Margaret Lee — you do not know her?

Rightly named — a pearl is she;

Half a score of years I've loved her —

Precious Margaret Lee.

“Dimples?” No; nor “golden tresses,”

Nor yet “voice of silvery tone”;—

If such phrases must express her,

Beauty she has none.

Soft brown hair and grey eyes dreaming

Visions that none others see;

Plain her features; you might call her

Homely Margaret Lee.

Margaret owns no stately mansion,

Carries not a heavy purse;

Heiress to no “lordly acres,”

Humble station hers.

Quietly she treads life's highway;

Quiet, yet with noble mien;

‘ Mid the lowly,‘ mid the lofty

Journeying like a queen.

Some have called her cold and haughty,

From her bearing, high and free;

Some have said a lofty spirit

Dwells with Margaret Lee.

Why then do the “heavy-laden”

Hail with joy her coming nigh?

Why the childern love her shadow

As she passeth by?

Some have deemed her weak, erratic.

Some, too self-reliant, strong;

One avers, her mood too gloomy;

One, too light her song.

All may be; the clouds of error

Ofttimes overshade her way,

Hiding where the rough and changeful

Paths of duty lay.

But unseen by mortal vision

Daily bends a suppliant knee;

Humbly bows a contrite spirit —

Praying Margaret Lee —

Asking of the All-forgiving

Pardon for her erring life;

Seeking wisdom, faith and patience

For its coming strife.

So with footstep sometimes faltering,

But with steadfast hope in God,

Keeps she still a blithesome journey

O'er the earthly road.

And at last all loss and failure

Lost in mercy, it may be

Heaven's gate of pearl will open

For sweet Margaret Lee.

There redeemed from sin and sorrow,

There from care and conflict free;

She will walk the angel city,

Angel Margaret Lee.