 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
162
THE BETTER LOT
Her life was bound to crutches: pale and bent,
But smiling ever, she would go and come:
For of her soul God made an instrument
Of strength and comfort to an humble home.
But smiling ever, she would go and come:
For of her soul God made an instrument
Of strength and comfort to an humble home.
Better a life of toil and slow disease
That Love companions through the patient years,
Than one whose heritage is loveless ease,
That never knows the blessedness of tears.
That Love companions through the patient years,
Than one whose heritage is loveless ease,
That never knows the blessedness of tears.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |