Among the haughtiest of her sex, in noble, quiet pride, <br />Cornelia stood, with mien that seemed their folly vain to chide: <br />No jewels sparkled on her brow, so high, so purely fair, <br />No gems were mingled ’mid her waves of dark and glossy hair; <br />And yet was she, amidst them all, despite their dazzling mien, <br />A woman in her gentle grace—in majesty a queen. <br /> <br />While some now showed their flashing gems with vain, exulting air, <br />And others boasted of their toys, their trinkets rich and rare, <br />And challenged her to treasures bring that shone with equal light, <br />Proudly she glanced her dark eye o’er the store of jewels bright. <br />”Rich as these are,“ she answered then, ”and dazzling as they shine, <br />They cannot for one hour compete in beauty rare with mine! <br /> <br />“You all seem doubtful, and a smile of scorn your features wear, <br />Look on my gems, and say if yours are but one half as fair?” <br />The Roman matron proudly placed her children in their sight <br />Whose brows already bore the seal of intellectual might; <br />She pressed them to her, whilst each trait with radiance seemed to shine, <br />And murmur’d, “Tell me, dare you say, your jewels outshine mine?”<br /><br />Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cornelia-s-jewels/
