32
A Woman's Choice.
"Show me yet," I cried, discouraged, "ideal life and heart and mind,
If, in any age and country, one so fair thou yet mayest find."
Shades of evening, how they gather, yet, within the twilight' gloom,
I am conscious of a presence, quiet, thoughtful, in my room;
One who toiled for slave and freeman, strove for wrongs to win redress,
While she worked, with tireless fingers,—busy little Quakeress.
Useful toil for others' welfare made for her an honored lot;
Many blessed her name and loved it; fare-thee-well, Lucretia Mott.
Back again across the ocean, wandering o'er the British isles,
Through the fragrant English hedge-rows, where a landscape fresh beguiles,
But we need not find her birth-place, yet to know her honored name,
Poet, author, wisest thinker, world-wide in her self-made fame.
If, in any age and country, one so fair thou yet mayest find."
Shades of evening, how they gather, yet, within the twilight' gloom,
I am conscious of a presence, quiet, thoughtful, in my room;
One who toiled for slave and freeman, strove for wrongs to win redress,
While she worked, with tireless fingers,—busy little Quakeress.
Useful toil for others' welfare made for her an honored lot;
Many blessed her name and loved it; fare-thee-well, Lucretia Mott.
Back again across the ocean, wandering o'er the British isles,
Through the fragrant English hedge-rows, where a landscape fresh beguiles,
But we need not find her birth-place, yet to know her honored name,
Poet, author, wisest thinker, world-wide in her self-made fame.
