 | Women must weep |  |
TEARS.
Honours for him, who struts abroad in scarlet,
And scatters death and bloody deed,
For noble swindler or successful varlet,
Who widows' basket robs of seed;
Honours for him, who wrings the mother's bosom
With nameless grief he never bore,
Who like the locust leaves not blade nor blossom,
Where myriads laugh'd and sang before;
Honours for him, who does the Devil's duty,
And virgin glory saps and sears,
Who takes its freshness and its pride from beauty—
For woman, tears.
And scatters death and bloody deed,
For noble swindler or successful varlet,
Who widows' basket robs of seed;
Honours for him, who wrings the mother's bosom
With nameless grief he never bore,
Who like the locust leaves not blade nor blossom,
Where myriads laugh'd and sang before;
Honours for him, who does the Devil's duty,
And virgin glory saps and sears,
Who takes its freshness and its pride from beauty—
For woman, tears.
Places for him whose tongue is ever longest,
But not to plead for purpose good,
Who with the ready sounding lie is strongest,
To stab down modest maidenhood;
Places for him, who for the damnèd dollar
Betrays the sister he should shield,
And from the refuge of his gilt dog-collar
Makes helpless want his harvest field;
Places for him who doth abuse his station,
And builds a home of orphans' fears,
Who drains the sweet young life-blood of the nation—
For woman, tears.
But not to plead for purpose good,
Who with the ready sounding lie is strongest,
To stab down modest maidenhood;
Places for him, who for the damnèd dollar
Betrays the sister he should shield,
And from the refuge of his gilt dog-collar
Makes helpless want his harvest field;
Places for him who doth abuse his station,
And builds a home of orphans' fears,
Who drains the sweet young life-blood of the nation—
For woman, tears.
186
Roses for her who ravens upon others,
That sew with precious thread of life;
For her a ball-dress, with a shroud that smothers
For them their dismal day of strife;
Roses for her whose sin is not detected,
Or pardon'd, because richly paid
By feasts and follies, that make crime respected,
Which from the gutter gets no aid.
Roses for her who finds in rank a juggler,
To dazzle eyes and deafen ears;
Thorns, dead leaves, for the fallen—for the struggler,
Stain'd woman, tears.
That sew with precious thread of life;
For her a ball-dress, with a shroud that smothers
For them their dismal day of strife;
Roses for her whose sin is not detected,
Or pardon'd, because richly paid
By feasts and follies, that make crime respected,
Which from the gutter gets no aid.
Roses for her who finds in rank a juggler,
To dazzle eyes and deafen ears;
Thorns, dead leaves, for the fallen—for the struggler,
Stain'd woman, tears.
Jewels for her who only lives for pleasure,
And never knew a moment's need,
Who fills her fair and overflowing measure
From suffering hearts that break and bleed;
Jewels for her who plays, and learns no lesson
From wholesale lack or honest pain,
Who eats and drinks, and puts the dainty dress on
And lies and puts it off again;
Jewels for her, the lost, that none borrow,
Or purchase from the golden years,
Brighter than coronets, the gems of sorrow,
Jewels of tears.
And never knew a moment's need,
Who fills her fair and overflowing measure
From suffering hearts that break and bleed;
Jewels for her who plays, and learns no lesson
From wholesale lack or honest pain,
Who eats and drinks, and puts the dainty dress on
And lies and puts it off again;
Jewels for her, the lost, that none borrow,
Or purchase from the golden years,
Brighter than coronets, the gems of sorrow,
Jewels of tears.
| Women must weep | |