The Atlantic Monthly/Volume 15/Number 92/To Carolina Coronado
TO CAROLINA CORONADO.
A LILY anchored by the Spanish main,Swaying and shining in the surge of youth,Yet holding in thy breast the gold of truth,—
Such didst thou seem above the waves of pain,And through the stormy turbulence of war,Until we heard thy patriot voice afar!
Now, Sister, with the burning heart of Spain,We speak to thee from this New England strand, And grasp and hold thee with a firm right hand!
For thou hast touched our people with thy word,—Only a gentle woman's word, but oneWith the great work our Nation has begun.
By Liberty thy earnest soul was stirred,And waked and urged Estremadura's menTo pour the heroic wine of life again.
As in the dawn of Summer flits a birdFrom his low nest and springs into the air,Hurrying a double concert and a prayer,—
So Liberty, with thy sweet voice allied,Walks in thy footsteps, with her laurel strowsThy footway, with, thy trustful spirit glows.
Esteem her friendship with unwavering pride!Teach thou thy children what the years have brought,Wisdom and love superior to thy thought!
Once thou hast said, "All men may win her side,But women never!" Sister, do not fear,Recall thy words, since Love has made truth clear.
For Love 'is master, and we know no other,Save self-compelling service to the right,Which is but Love in the seraphic sight
Teach this thy sons and to each man thy brother,—A secret learned in silent joys of home,A secret whence the lights of being come.
So guided by this lamp, O wife and mother,Turn thine eyes hither to the Western shore,Where red streams run and iron thunders roar!
We watch the star of Freedom slowly riseAnd glimmer through the changes of the time,While errors beat their low retreating chime.
We ask for nought, we need not to be wise,We find both men and women at their post,Equal and different in one mighty host.
Divided suffering, unity of cries,—Divided labor, unity of life,—Divided struggle, one reward for strife.
As autumn winds sweep over tossing seasAnd reach the happy shore, and fling the flowersAnd lower each gorgeous head by their rude powers,—
So sweep the winds of war through quiet leasAnd bend our budding treasures in the dust,Yet Freedom's cause shall neither mar nor rust.
The seed shall spring where none can thirst or freeze,Shall bear a floweret fairer than the old,As lilies shine before all blossoms told:
A liberty for woman in her home,Bound by the only chains which give her peace,—Immortal chains which death may not release:
A liberty where Justice wide may roam,And Reverence sit the chief at every feast,With Love as master, and Contempt as least:
A liberty where the oppressed may come,The black and white, the woman and the man,And recognize themselves in Heaven's wide plan
Then while the morning odors of the seaBlow from the westward and caress thy brow,Remember where thy loving sisters bow:
Perchance beneath the hand of Victory,Which leaves a tear and then a silentness,While crowds move by forgetful of one less;
Or where a burst of gracious ecstasyRising shall fill the eastward flitting air, And with thy spirit mount the hills of prayer.