Читать книгу Freedom, Truth and Beauty - Edward Doyle - Страница 16

O Daughters of the brave, well ye abjure

The fiend and all his works. Ye know his smiles

Are fire-fly flare at gloaming, lighting miles

Of snake-boughed forests down to swamps, impure

From mind and soul decay; hence are heart-sure

That creed and racial hatreds are his wiles,

For God is Love, and Love draws, reconsiles,

And is the strength that makes our land endure.

O Mothers, as you lift your babes and gaze

Into their eyes, your love runs through their vains

In crimson flushes—oh, your love that pains

At any of God's creatures hurt! that stays;

The heavens may pass away, but that remains,

Being of Christ, who walks earth Mother-ways.