 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
“SHE IS COMING.” (1876.)
She is coming, in all her glorious bloom,
She is coming in all her light;
Though she pass through the very door of doom,
And she enter the courts of night;
And she enter the courts of night—
She will tread as a conqueror on the tomb,
In her beauty strange and bright.
She is coming in all her light;
Though she pass through the very door of doom,
And she enter the courts of night;
And she enter the courts of night—
She will tread as a conqueror on the tomb,
In her beauty strange and bright.
She is coming, with rapture in her gaze,
And with liberty in her hands;
From many a blind and bleeding maze,
Of the sad and suffering lands—
Of the sad and suffering lands;
Through the struggling gleams and the purple haze,
To the clear and cloudless strands.
And with liberty in her hands;
From many a blind and bleeding maze,
Of the sad and suffering lands—
Of the sad and suffering lands;
Through the struggling gleams and the purple haze,
To the clear and cloudless strands.
She is coming, in all the power of good,
And she takes no menial hire;
Though the sun go down in a sea of blood,
And the moon rise up in fire—
And the moon rise up in fire;
Though alarms roll back in a mighty flood,
On the hopes that would fain aspire.
And she takes no menial hire;
Though the sun go down in a sea of blood,
And the moon rise up in fire—
And the moon rise up in fire;
Though alarms roll back in a mighty flood,
On the hopes that would fain aspire.
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She is coming, I hear the falling feet,
As they trample out the stains;
For the prisoners all her presence greet,
And her steps are broken chains—
And her steps are broken chains,
And the passions that once with purpose meet,
Are an end to ancient pains.
As they trample out the stains;
For the prisoners all her presence greet,
And her steps are broken chains—
And her steps are broken chains,
And the passions that once with purpose meet,
Are an end to ancient pains.
She is coming, the mourners mark her call,
And the princes in their pride;
While the thrones and dungeons fail and fall,
At the touch of freedom's tide—
At the touch of freedom's tide;
For the tyrant's pleasure is his pall,
And a skeleton is his bride.
And the princes in their pride;
While the thrones and dungeons fail and fall,
At the touch of freedom's tide—
At the touch of freedom's tide;
For the tyrant's pleasure is his pall,
And a skeleton is his bride.
She is coming, I see her ardent eyes,
As they flash from her flowing hair;
And her breath is as sweet to the heavy skies,
As a storm to the stagnant air—
As a storm to the stagnant air;
When the troubled winds and waters rise,
In a concert fierce and fair.
As they flash from her flowing hair;
And her breath is as sweet to the heavy skies,
As a storm to the stagnant air—
As a storm to the stagnant air;
When the troubled winds and waters rise,
In a concert fierce and fair.
She is coming, our more than Love and Queen,
Who is all our Life and Lord;
To assuage the ills that, if unseen,
Yet fret as the captive's cord—
Yet fret as the captive's cord;
And her head has the olive's gracious green,
Though her hand has the judgment sword.
Who is all our Life and Lord;
To assuage the ills that, if unseen,
Yet fret as the captive's cord—
Yet fret as the captive's cord;
And her head has the olive's gracious green,
Though her hand has the judgment sword.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |