O Goddess—thou good Goddess of Poverty!
XV.
They will always remember that thou wert their faithful mother, their robust nurse, and their church militant. They will spread balm upon thy bleeding wounds, they will make the fertile and perfumed at last repose:
O Goddess—thou good Goddess of Poverty!
XVI.
While patiently awaiting the promised day of the Lord, torrents and forests, mountains and valleys, lands teeming with wild flowers and filled with little singing birds, desert paths which have no masters though sanded with gold, let her pass—let her pass:
The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!
THE
Continental Monthly