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A Woman's Choice.
With a heart for all who suffer, with a poet's gift of song,
With a pen of lambent fire wielded ever 'gainst the wrong,
Yet more beautiful,—more lovely,—in her home and in her life,
Happy less with "nations praising" than with crown of mother—wife,—
Wizard, thou hast found, by searching, one for all my praises meet,
The laurel wreath,—this flower of thought,—I lay them at her feet!
With a pen of lambent fire wielded ever 'gainst the wrong,
Yet more beautiful,—more lovely,—in her home and in her life,
Happy less with "nations praising" than with crown of mother—wife,—
Wizard, thou hast found, by searching, one for all my praises meet,
The laurel wreath,—this flower of thought,—I lay them at her feet!
