Women must weep By Prof. F. Harald Williams [i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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THE CHILDREN'S PRAYER. |
 | Women must weep |  |
THE CHILDREN'S PRAYER.
We have no voice, we cannot speak,
In cellars sad and lone,
Where might is right, and childhood weak,
And cradles are of stone;
Where mothers' hearts are harder still,
And cold as winter rain;
While black, from every seed of ill,
Bursts every fruit of pain.
In cellars sad and lone,
Where might is right, and childhood weak,
And cradles are of stone;
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And cold as winter rain;
While black, from every seed of ill,
Bursts every fruit of pain.
We have no hands, we cannot make
An issue from our grief;
We pine, and but fresh sorrow take,
As all our poor relief.
We think of joy, as something strange,
Like flowers that distant grow;
New suffering is the only change,
Our little lives may know.
An issue from our grief;
We pine, and but fresh sorrow take,
As all our poor relief.
We think of joy, as something strange,
Like flowers that distant grow;
New suffering is the only change,
Our little lives may know.
We have no feet, we cannot fly
To other fields more fair;
They say there is a cloudless sky,
With sweeter, purer air;
But what it is we scarce can dream,
Nursed in the darkness thus;
We feel, however blest it beam,
It brightens not for us.
To other fields more fair;
They say there is a cloudless sky,
With sweeter, purer air;
But what it is we scarce can dream,
Nursed in the darkness thus;
We feel, however blest it beam,
It brightens not for us.
We have no light, we cannot learn
Of things that better teach;
Our troubled minds must vainly yearn
For truths beyond their reach.
No radiance falls on any cheek,
No waft of summer wind;
We fade as plants that fondly seek
The sun they never find.
Of things that better teach;
Our troubled minds must vainly yearn
For truths beyond their reach.
No radiance falls on any cheek,
No waft of summer wind;
We fade as plants that fondly seek
The sun they never find.
We have no friends, we cannot love,
Beneath the curse and blow;
We hear there is a heaven above,
We have a hell below.
There may be goodness, somewhere, far,
We nothing see but sin;
We even would welcome prison bar,
If keeping from our kin.
Beneath the curse and blow;
We hear there is a heaven above,
We have a hell below.
There may be goodness, somewhere, far,
We nothing see but sin;
We even would welcome prison bar,
If keeping from our kin.
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We have no peace, we cannot slake
Our thirst for rest untried;
In sleep, our bleeding hearts awake,
And weep the help denied.
We have no hope, we dimly trust
That somehow God will save;
We long for kindness from the dust,
And quiet in the grave.
Our thirst for rest untried;
In sleep, our bleeding hearts awake,
And weep the help denied.
We have no hope, we dimly trust
That somehow God will save;
We long for kindness from the dust,
And quiet in the grave.
| Women must weep | |