I saw them beautiful, in fair array upon Commencement Day; Lissome and lovely, radiant and sweet As cultured roses, brought to their estate By careful training. Finished and complete
( As teachers calculate ). They passed in maiden grace along the aisle, Leaving the chaste white sunlight of a smile Upon the gazing throng.
Musing I thought upon their place as mothers of the race. Oh there are many actors who can play Greatly, great parts; but rare indeed the soul Who can be great when cast for some small role;
Yet that is what the world most needs; big hearts That will shine forth and glorify poor parts In this strange drama, Life! Do they, Who in full dress-rehearsal pass to-day
Before admiring eyes, hold in their store Those fine high principles which keep old Earth From being only earth; and make men more Than just mere men? How will they prove their worth
Of years of study? Will they walk abroad Decked with the plumage of dead bards of God, The glorious birds? And shall the lamb unborn Be slain on altars of their vanity?
To some frail sister who has missed the way Will they give Christ's compassion, or man's scorn; And will clean manhood, linked with honest love, The victor prove,
When riches, gained by greed, dispute the claim? Will they guard well a husband's home and name. Or lean down from their altitudes to hear The voice of flattery speak in the ear
Those lying platitudes which men repeat To listening Self-Conceit? Musing I thought upon their place as mothers of the race, As beautiful they passed in maiden grace.
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