A VOICE OF THE HEART.
Blow, Oh winds, from farthest heaven; Circle suns, and waters roll,Thou art bringing Life's fruition, To the woman's weary soul.Many centuries have drifted, Down the ceaseless path of Time,Men of power, law and precept, Made to stifle Lust and Crime.
Many a sun hath set and risen; On great triumph of man's skill,Science's gates open before him, Where he wandered at his will.But her doors were barred to woman, All her glories from the gaze,Of the woman, seeing dimly, Through the Future's tangled maze,
All the great expansive genius; That her soul held cramped in thought,All the embryo worlds of being, That great Wisdom's hand had wrought.
