The sound of thy sorrow, thy plaint of despair
Have reached English ears o'er the wide westward water,
And sympathy stirred, seldom slumbering there.
Child-Wife, or Child-Widow, in agony kneeling
And clasping the skirts of the armed Island Queen,
Her heart is not cold to thine urgent appealing;
Considerate care in her glances is seen.
Not hot as the urgings of zealotry heady
The action of her who's protectrice and guide.
Her stroke must be measured, her sympathy steady,