The outward world, for rugged toil designed,
Where Evil from true Good the crown hath riven,
Hath been to men's dominion ever given;
But woman's empire, holier, more refined,
Moulds, moves, and sways the fallen yet God-breathed mind,
Lifting the earth-crushed heart to hope and heaven.
As plants put forth to summer's gentle wind,
And 'neath the sweet, soft light of starry even,
Those treasures which the tyrant winter's sway
Could never wrest from nature,-so the soul
Will woman's sweet and tender power obey;
Thus doth her summer smile its strength control;
Her love sows flowers along life's thorny way;
Her star-bright faith leads up towards heaven's goal.