On the stage of life they say,
Each must play a part;
My sister’s part is merry and gay
And why not?
Her thoughts are free, her smiles allure,
And why not?
Her sighs are light, for she is pure,
And why not?
The Summer Sun makes us glad,
And why not?
My sister though is never sad,
For in sunshine she is clad.
The flower, the tree, the grass is new
And why not?
They are happy for spring and sister too,
And why not?
How sweet the song of the early bird,
And why not?
A word from sister they have heard,
It makes them glad and never sad,
And why not?
Her soft sweet breath is like the rose,
And why not?
Why she is happy she always knows,
And why not?
And why not? I ask. Why, this is it:
On the stage of life they say,
Each must play a part.
My sister’s part is merry and gay,
And thus a soft, sweet heart.
These verses are preserved in journalist Maxwell’s papers at the New Jersey Historical Society.
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