The General, by Keith Logan

fan fiction

The General

He is the handsomest of men
Though life's bloom has fled
With full vigour intact
He can still turn a head

When he wears that red coat
With the ribbons and braid
Beneath manifold cloak
And his white cockade

General Tilney can portray
To the world a fine show
With a light in the eye
And his cheeks all aglow

But there is something within
That the world rarely sees
When he's holding court
Seeming ever at ease

Around him Eleanor walks
As though treading on eggs
Strong sons are restrained
By invisible pegs

Could the world but once glance
At the dark soul within
They would not long be fooled
By a veneer wearing thin

As young Catherine has found
To her cost and her glory
That the evil men do
Is no gothic story

He abused this dear girl
On the wickedest whim
Dragging his only daughter
To the devil with him

That it all ended well
For both hero and heroine
We owe to imagination
Of a great writer's pen