POETRY.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 1996, 17 July 1880, Page 3

POETRY.

ONLY A WOMAN,

Only a woman shriveled and old ! The prey of the winds and the prey of the cold"!

Cheeks that are shrunken, Eyes that are sunken, Lips that were ever o'erbold. Only a woman forsaken and poor, Asking for alms at the bronze church door. Hark to the organ ! Roll upon roll The waves of tbe muaic eo over her soul! Silks rußtle past her Thicker and faster,

The great bell ceaseth its toll. Fain would Bhe enter, but not for the poor Swingeth wide open the bronze church-door.

Only a woman —waiting alone, Icily cold, on an ice cold throne. What do they care for her ? Mumbling a prayer for her; Giving not bread but a stone. Under old lace their haughty hearts beat, Mocking the woes of their kin in the street.

Only a woman ! In the old day Hope caroled to her happiest lays ; Somebody missed her Somebody kissed her, Somebody crowned her with praise ; Somebody faced up the battles of life. Strong for her Bake, who was mother and wife.

Somebody lies with a tress of her hair Light on his heart where the death shadows are; Somebody waits for her, Opening the gates for her, Giving delight for despair. Only a woman—nevermore poor— Dead in the snow at the bronze church-door!