PHE~ THREE .'V PRS 
AN ALLEGORY. 
By Jean La Rue Burnett. 
Three virgin sisters met at close of day 
Upon a cross-road in life’s weary way 
Called Maidenhood, and while they pause to greet, 
It chanced an aged hag with sable dress 
Came weeping bitterly as in distress 
A-down the thorny road with blood-stained feet. 
‘‘Prithee, good mother,” did the virgins cry, 
The while the senile dame went hobbling by, 
‘Pause thou with us and rest thyself awhile; 
Thy limbs are weary, sorrew-stained thy face— 
Pause, for there is no other resting place 
Save this, for many a long and dreary mile.” 
The travailed woman turned her snow-white head, 
Bow’'d with the bitterness of years long dead, 
Her voice rang hollow through the twilight gloom : 
““My name is Age,” saith she, ‘“‘I know no rest! 
The wizard Time hath willed a fruitless quest 
To be my hapless lot until the tomb.” 
““What seeketh thou, Dame Age?” one virgin cried, 
‘«Tell us thy quest; perchance our aid may guide 
Thee to the Mecca of thy life’s desire.” 
“ Alack ! my child, I once was young like thee; 
Then had I that which now I seek,” quoth she; 
‘Nor prized it—lost ’tis hopeless to acquire !” 
“‘It is a gem of priceless worth called ‘Joy,’ 
The which no god hath power to destroy : 
As crystal pure—no jewel quite so rare! 
There is a certain youth who hath this gem 
With others compassed in a diadem ; 
Love is his name, so young is he and fair.” 
‘His eyes are blue, and golden is his hair, 
Bold is his heart and soft and debonnair ; 
He rides a fiery steed whose name is Pride— 
Betide he wandered forth this gladsome day; 
Saw you him pass along this weary way ?” 
“Alas! we saw him not,” the maidens cried. 
‘«Pray tell us, aged mother, how can we 
Find this sweet youth, and we will seek with thee, 
For we would have this wondrous gem,” cried they. 
‘‘Search long and faithfully,” exclaimed the dame, 
‘* And when you find him whisper low your name ! "— 
And on the morrow each one went her way. 
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