THE SONG OF THE WOMEN
(Lady Dufferin's Fund for medical aid to the Women of India)
HOW shall she know the worship we would do her?
The walls are high and she is very far.
How shall the women's message reach unto her
Above the tumult of the packed bazaar?
Free wind of March, against the lattice blowing,
Bear thou our thanks lest she depart unknowing.
Go forth across the fields we may not roam in,
Go forth beyond the trees that rim the city
To whatsoe'er fair place she hath her home in,
Who dowered us with wealth of love and pity.
Out of our shadow pass, and seek her singing—
"I have no gifts but Love alone for bringing."
Say that we be a feeble folk who greet her,
But old in grief, and very wise in tears:
Say that we, being desolate, entreat her
That she forget us not in after-years;
For we have seen the light and it were grievous
To dim that dawning if our Lady leave us.
By Life that ebbed with none to stanch the failing,
By Love's sad harvest garnered ere the spring,
When Love in Ignorance wept unavailing
O'er young buds dead before their blossoming;
By all the grey owl watched, the pale moon viewed,
In past grim years declare our gratitude!
