|
WHENE’ER a noble deed is wrought, | |
Whene’er is spoken a noble thought, | |
Our hearts, in glad surprise, | |
To higher levels rise. | |
|
The tidal wave of deeper souls | 5 |
Into our inmost being rolls, | |
And lifts us unawares | |
Out of all meaner cares. | |
|
Honor to those whose words or deeds | |
Thus help us in our daily needs, | 10 |
And by their overflow | |
Raise us from what is low. | |
|
Thus thought I, as by night I read | |
Of the great army of the dead, | |
The trenches cold and damp, | 15 |
The starved and frozen camp,— | |
|
The wounded from the battle-plain, | |
In dreary hospitals of pain, | |
The cheerless corridors, | |
The cold and stony floors. | 20 |
|
Lo! in that house of misery | |
A lady with a lamp I see | |
Pass through the glimmering gloom, | |
And flit from room to room. | |
|
And slow, as in a dream of bliss, | 25 |
The speechless sufferer turns to kiss | |
Her shadow, as it falls | |
Upon the darkening walls. | |
|
As if a door in heaven should be | |
Opened and then closed suddenly, | 30 |
The vision came and went, | |
The light shone and was spent. | |
|
On England’s annals, through the long | |
Hereafter of her speech and song, | |
That light its rays shall cast | 35 |
From portals of the past. | |
|
A Lady with a Lamp shall stand | |
In the great history of the land, | |
A noble type of good, | |
Heroic womanhood. | 40 |
|
Nor even shall be wanting here | |
The palm, the lily, and the spear, | |
The symbols that of yore | |
Saint Filomena bore. | |
|