The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1888-05-13
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
By the Author of"OstIer Joe."
Hark it is over The organ peals,
The bishop has mumbled the final word,
Over the chaneel the sunlight steals,
Mocking the sob the bridesmaids heard.
Here, in the sight of God above,
A lord has taken fair young bride;
Here they have sworn 10 honor and love,
And each of them knew that the other
lied.
This is the market where slaves are sold:
Rare is the slave that they sell to-day,
They barter her sweet white flesh for gold
To noble sheep who has gone astray.
For rank and jewels and vast estates
They forced his badge on her dainty
hand.
Here in a church in a Christian land.
Ny lord. the bishop, he bowed his hesd.
And rolled his eyes with mellowed
As the beautiful words in the book he read,
And sunbeam fell on his family face
His loTdsbip knew of the bridegroom's
He knew of the women, the cards and
wine;
But up frem the altar he sent his name
To ESPECIALLY blessed by the King divine.
He gazed on the face of the high horn maid
And saw the mark where the tears had
been,
He knew that q daughter had wept and
prayed,
he knew that q mother had feared a
scene
Had torn herself from the weeping girl
Whose love was away DER the distant sea,
And had sold her child to titled churl
Who had just got round from bad 1t.
Back from the doors, with the ragged crew
Line the passage on either side
| Hide her shame from the peoples view!
Hurry her off, the trembling bride
There isn't man in the motley crowd
But knows of her owners evil life;
| And they tell the tale of his sins aloud
Till the wantons pity the new made wife.
The air is gay with the wedding chimes,
Over the town the news they tell
That the bishop has blessed the worst Of
crimes,
ndnow they are toiling maiden's kn ell.
| His lordship follows his dainty prize:
Now whip the horses and speed away
| Look at the tears in her swollen eyes
Pity, my lord, for your helpless prey!
Over the sea on a barbarous coast,
soldier leads in desperate Hght
A handful Of men 'gainst swarming host,
And the battle is waged from morn till
night.
| One to hundred still they stand,
Fighting like heroes, and win at last;
| And the news goes home to the distant
land,
And his fame is spread with trumpet
blast. ,.-.. ..- ..
She hears the story, a week now wed,
For the gallant deed is on every tongues:
| Oft for him have her prayers been said,
Oft for him have her hands been wrung.
Ee was the hero she loved so long,
| His was the image that filled her heart;
All, she had done him a grievous wrong:
Well, it was best, they were leagues apart.
She thought of the soldier who fought so
And then of the rogue whose rings she
wore;
She hears the tales that the gossips tell
OF the evil life he led before.
She hears the tales and doubts them not,
For once again he has broken out;
He comes to his couch like q drunken sot.
| And leaves strange letters and cartes
| about
|
| Let him go to the bad at his own mad pace !;
No word she spoke would her lord deter;
He'd laugh with scorn in her pleading
face.
She WINGED but once-at the seasons height
| A creature sat by her husbands side,
And drove the pony in all mems sight,
His friends had given the new-msde
bride.
Never flush on her marble brow, b.
| Only @ curl OF the faultless lip; a.-r,
The worlds tongue ways with the story now,
And her lord goes off on lengthy trip.
| All men pity and some of them speak
And sigh Ger the wrongs OF the reigning
The papers have paragraphs week by week,
And wider and wider the scandals swell
Her carte is hung in the West End shops,
With her name in full on the white below;
And all day long there big crowd stops
Tolook at the lady who's all the CO.,
Queen she is of her set to- day
In the realms OF fashion she reigns alone
She should hear what the cosrse-tengued
rabble say,
Now the price she paid for her name is
h known. d. r-.-t.l
And not alone do the rabble speak,
There's something society whispers too
It was the talk of the Ascot week,
The scandals delightfully."- fresh and new.
The lover who went to the war is back
Ba OK with the fame his sword has won;
And of more than malice the stories smack
That round on the lips of the gossips run.
Wherever is Venus there is Mars,
Her face lights up when he comes about
Ascot gave matter for spiieful "pars"
And Henley has put it beyond doubt.
Her love shines out through her splendid |
eyes,
Love is a passion. or right or wrong;
Pity the woman who wildly tries
To stem torrent yet floats along.
Gaze on the photo of Beauty" hung
Hung in the shops for cads to buy;
Little you dream how her heart is wrung,
Little you dream how that breast can
sigh.
Let US think of the Turk with feeling
heart,
Who sells his slaves in the wanton east;
bore we have mothers who h Id mart.
And Beauty" is sold to the wealthy