three young maids in friendship met,

mary, martha, margaret.

margaret was tall and fair,

martha shorter by a hair;

if the first excell’d in feature,

the other’s grace and ease were greater;

mary, though to rival loth,

in their best gifts equall’d both.

they a due proportion kept;

martha mourn’d if margaret wept;

margaret joy’d when any good

she of martha understood;

and in sympathy for either

mary was outdone by neither.

thus far, for a happy space,

all three ran an even race,

a most constant friendship proving,

equally beloved and loving;

all their wishes, joys, the same,

sisters only not in name.

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fortune upon each one smiled

as upon a favourite child;

well to do and well to see

were the parents of all three;

till on martha’s father crosses

brought a flood of worldly losses,

and his fortunes rich and great

changed at once to low estate;

under which o’erwhelming blow

martha’s mother was laid low;

she a hapless orphan left,

of maternal care bereft,

trouble following trouble fast,

lay in a sick bed at last.

in the depth of her affliction

martha now received conviction

that a true and faithful friend

can the surest comfort lend.

night and day, with friendship tried,

ever constant by her side

was her gentle mary found,

with a love that knew no bound;

and the solace she imparted

saved her dying broken-hearted.

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in this scene of earthly things

not one good unmixed springs.

that which had to martha proved

a sweet consolation, moved

different feelings of regret

in the mind of margaret.

she, whose love was not less dear,

nor affection less sincere,

to her friend, was by occasion

of more distant habitation

fewer visits forced to pay her,

when no other cause did stay her;

and her mary living nearer,

margaret began to fear her

lest her visits day by day

martha’s heart should steal away.

that whole heart she ill could spare her

where till now she’d been a sharer.

from this cause with grief she pined,

till at length her health declined.

all her cheerful spirits flew,

fast as martha gather’d new;

and her sickness waxed sore,

just when martha felt no more.

mary, who had quick suspicion

of her alter’d friend’s condition,

seeing martha’s convalescence

less demanded now her presence,

with a goodness built on reason,

changed her measures with the season,

turn’d her steps from martha’s door,

went where she was wanted more;

all her care and thoughts were set

now to tend on margaret.

mary living ’twixt the two,

from her home could oftener go

either of her friends to see

than they could together be.

truth explain’d is to suspicion

evermore the best physician.

soon her visits had the effect;

all that margaret did suspect

from her fancy vanish’d clean;

she was soon what she had been,

and the colour she did lack

to her faded cheek came back,

wounds which love had made her feel,

love alone had power to heal.

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martha, who the frequent visit

now had lost, and sore did miss it,

with impatience waxed cross,

counted margaret’s gain her loss:

all that mary did confer

on her friend, thought due to her.

in her girlish bosom rise

little foolish jealousies,

which into such rancour wrought,

she one day for margaret sought;

finding her by chance alone,

she began, with reasons shown,

to insinuate a fear

whether mary was sincere;

wish’d that margaret would take heed

whence her actions did proceed.

for herself, she’d long been minded

not with outsides to be blinded;

all that pity and compassion,

she believed was affectation;

in her heart she doubted whether

mary cared a pin for either.

she could keep whole weeks at distance

and not know of their existence,

while all things remain’d the same;

but when some misfortune came,

then she made a great parade

of her sympathy and aid,—

not that she did really grieve,

it was only make-believe,

and she cared for nothing, so

she might her fine feelings show,

and get credit on her part

for a soft and tender heart.

with such speeches, smoothly made,

she found methods to persuade

margaret (who, being sore

from the doubts she’d felt before,

was prepared for mistrust)

to believe her reasons just;

quite destroyed that comfort glad

which in mary late she had;

made her, in experience’ spite,

think her friend a hypocrite,

and resolve, with cruel scoff,

to renounce and cast her off.

see how good turns are rewarded!

she of both is now discarded,

who to both had been so late

their support in low estate,

all their comfort, and their stay—

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now of both is cast away.

but the league her presence cherished,

losing its best prop, soon perished;

she, that was a link to either,

to keep them and it together,

being gone, the two (no wonder)

that were left soon fell asunder;—

some civilities were kept,

but the heart of friendship slept;

love with hollow forms was fed,

but the life of love lay dead:—

a cold intercourse they held

after mary was expelled.

two long years did intervene

since they’d either of them seen,

or by letter, any word

of their old companion heard,—

when, upon a day once walking,

of indifferent matters talking,

they a female figure met;—

martha said to margaret,

“that young maid in face does carry

a resemblance strong of mary,”

margaret, at nearer sight,

own’d her observation right;

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but they did not far proceed

ere they found ’twas she indeed.

she—but, ah! i how changed they view her

from that person which they knew her!

her fine face disease had scarr’d,

and its matchless beauty marr’d:—

but enough was left to trace

mary’s sweetness—mary’s grace.

when her eye did first behold them,

how they blush’d! but when she told them

how on a sick bed she lay

months, while they had kept away

and had no inquiries made

if she were alive or dead;—

how, for want of a true friend,

she was brought near to her end,

and was like so to have died

with no friend at her bedside;—

how the constant irritation

caused by fruitless expectation

of their coming, had extended

the illness, when she might have mended,—

then, o then, how did reflection

come on them with recollection!

all that she had done for them,

how it did their fault condemn!

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but sweet mary, still the same,

kindly eased them of their shame;

spoke to them with accents bland,

took them friendly by the hand;

bound them both with promise fast

not to speak of troubles past;

made them on the spot declare

a new league of friendship there;

which, without a word of strife,

lasted thenceforth long as life.

martha now and margaret

strove who most should pay the debt

which they owed her, nor did vary

ever after from their mary.