The prayer of Ajax was for light;
Through all that dark and desperate fight
The blackness of that noonday night
He asked but the return of sight,
To see his foeman's face.
Let our unceasing, earnest prayer
Be, too, for light,—for strength to bear
Our portion of the weight of care,
That crushes into dumb despair
One half the human race.
O suffering, sad humanity!
O ye afflicted one; who lie
Steeped to the lips in misery,
Longing, and yet afraid to die,
Patient, though sorely tried!
I pledge you in this cup of grief,
Where floats the fennel's bitter leaf!
The Battle of our Life is brief
The alarm,—the struggle,—the relief,
Then sleep we side by side.
MAIDENHOOD
Maiden! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Like the dusk in evening skies!
Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one, As the braided streamlets run!
Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet!
Gazing, with a timid glance, On the brooklet's swift advance, On the river's broad expanse!