VAGRANT VERSE

Southland Times, Issue 19460, 27 January 1925, Page 4

VAGRANT VERSE

“THE UNKNOWN WOMAN WARRIOR/* (Written for the Southland Times.) One summer’s eve I found upon the floor Of my consulting room when day was o’er, A glove of grey of fabric cheap and thin But darned so finely that my eyes grew dim. A woman’s work, and I as woman knew That only one whose means were sadly few, Had woven, with perchance an aching head, That broidery pathetic thread by thread. One who for solitude would keep all tears, Yet lift her head abroad despite of sears, The hand that filled that glove a home would make Poor, but refined and warm for love’s dear sake; No sports its owner knew, nor modem dance, But comfort followed fast her ordered glance; No songs she sang beyond sweet hillaby, But she could hear a baby’s faintest cry. Her instruments were only head and hands Whose touch could soften e’en pain’s iron bands, For those she loved, she fought with help of God, Nor would she cease to fight till ’nfsth the sod. Her cenotaph will be her memory dear, Than stone more lasting in its beauty clear ; Those women warriors should not be forgot, Their name is legion, though the world knows not. —Mina Graham Leask. Gore, January 22.