| The bravest battle that ever was fought! |
| Shall I tell you where and when? |
| On the map of the world you will find it not, |
| 'Twas fought by the mothers of men. |
| |
| Nay, not with cannon or battle shot, |
| With sword or nobler pen, |
| Nay, not with eloquent words or thought |
| From mouths of wonderful men; |
| |
| But deep in the walled-up woman's heart— |
| Of woman that would not yield, |
| But bravely, silently, bore her part— |
| Lo, there is that battle field! |
| |
| No marshaling troup, no bivouac song, |
| No banner to gleam or wave, |
| But oh! these battles, they last so long— |
| From babyhood to the grave. |
| |
| Yet, faithful as a bridge of stars, |
| She fights in her walled-up town— |
| Fights on and on in the endless wars, |
| Then, silent, unseen, goes down. |
|
| |
| Oh, ye with banner and battle shot, |
| And soldiers to shout and praise, |
| I tell you the kingliest victories fought |
| Were fought in those silent ways. |
| |
| Oh, spotless in a world of shame, |
| With splendid and silent scorn, |
| Go back to God as white as you came— |
| The kingliest warrior born! |
| |
| Joaquin Miller. |
| "I asked of Echo, t'other day |
| (Whose words are often few and funny), |
| What to a novice she could say |
| Of courtship, love and matrimony. |
| Quoth Echo plainly,—'Matter-o'-money!' |
| |
| "Whom should I marry? Should it be |
| A dashing damsel, gay and pert, |
| A pattern of inconstancy; |
| Or selfish, mercenary flirt? |
| Quoth Echo, sharply,—'Nary flirt!' |
| |
| "What if, aweary of the strife |
| That long has lured the dear deceiver, |
| She promise to amend her life. |
| And sin no more; can I believe her? |
| Quoth Echo, very promptly;—'Leave her!' |
| |
| "But if some maiden with a heart |
| On me should venture to bestow it, |
| Pray should I act the wiser part |
| To take the treasure or forgo it? |
| Quoth Echo, with decision,—'Go it!' |
| |
| "But what if, seemingly afraid |
| To bind her fate in Hymen's fetter, |
| She vow she means to die a maid, |
| In answer to my loving letter? |
| Quoth Echo, rather coolly,—'Let her!' |
| |
| "What if, in spite of her disdain, |
| I find my heart entwined about |
| With Cupid's dear, delicious chain |
| So closely that I can't get out? |
| Quoth Echo, laughingly,—'Get out!' |
| |
| "But if some maid with beauty blest, |
| As pure and fair as Heaven can make her, |
| Will share my labor and my rest |
| Till envious Death shall overtake her? |
| Quoth Echo (sotto voce),-'Take her!'" |
| |
| John G. Saxe. |
| Life! I know not what thou art, |
| But know that thou and I must part; |
| And when, or how, or where we met |
| I own to me's a secret yet. |
| |
| Life! we've been long together |
| Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; |
| 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear— |
| Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; |
| |
| Then steal away; give little warning, |
| Choose thine own time; |
| Say not Good Night, but in some brighter clime |
| Bid me Good Morning. |
| |
| Anna L. Barbauld. |