M. L. P.

Her words the hope of nations crown,
And stir brave boyhood with their leaven,
Her patriot fire
Wakes noble ire,
She wastes in gracious deeds, like one
Whose heart is on the fields of heaven.

Far on some viewless height her eyes
Behold another scene than ours;
She drops no tear,
She feels no fear,
But beckons weeping mothers rise
And walk with her in unseen bowers.