Who will not drink the toast of wives and sweet hearts?
Who will not pledge "Our sweethearts and our wives?"
What greater boon is deigned us than to greet hearts
Destined to sway the current of our lives
With influence, like a good star, benignant,
With magnet-power drawing men to home;
And counter-spells to break the spell malignant,
The curse of Cain, that tempts us all to roam?
Your healths, great-hearted, staunch, devoted women,
Ready, for sake of home, to live the life
Of serfs, in duty fearless as are few men,
Who if Death stood amidst the path of wife
Would swerve not to the left side or the right side,
But walk straight on into his cold embrace;
Who carry your life-exile from life's bright side
Branded indelibly upon your face.
Your healths, stout-hearted, cheery, little women,
With little homes, small means, and little spheres,
Who manage with your small lights to illumine
Lives not too full of this world's gifts and cheers;
Who smiling share the struggle for subsistence,
And laughing lighten many a hard day;
And all without one glimmer in the distance
To give you hope that clouds will clear away.
Your healths, brave sufferers in the early trials
Of genius in uncongenial straits,
Who feel that, when ill-fate has drained her vials,
Veiled in the future somewhere glory waits:
Wives of Carlyles and sisters loved of Wordsworths,
Who fight the good fight spite of toils and strains,
Confident that your hero has whole herds worths
Of ordinary mortals' aims and brains.
Your healths, refined, appreciative, women,
Graceful and bright, easy in circumstance,
Who make it yours to cheer all good and true men
Upon their high emprize with kindly glance;
Women with yearnings noble and poetic,
Women with worship for heroic deeds,
Longing to make oblation sympathetic
Or all your witchery for great men's meeds.
Your health, O much revered and Royal Woman
Sitting aloft on empire's dazzling heights,
Crowned with a halo almost superhuman,
And thrown into relief with such strong lights;
And yours, Princess, whose days have ever found you
Offering some fresh word or act of grace
To the poor folk who love to throng around you
To gaze upon the fairness of your face,
Who will not drink the toast of wives and sweet hearts?
Who will not pledge "Our sweethearts and our wives?"
Bright hearts and brave hearts, gentle hearts and great hearts,
Deigned to be stars or flowers of our lives;
Beautiful, graceful, love-inspiring lovers,
Dutiful, dauntless, uncomplaining mates?
Each woman that I meet to me discovers
Some new gift to alleviate our fates.
First published in The Queenslander, 21 July 1883
Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography
See also.
Who will not pledge "Our sweethearts and our wives?"
What greater boon is deigned us than to greet hearts
Destined to sway the current of our lives
With influence, like a good star, benignant,
With magnet-power drawing men to home;
And counter-spells to break the spell malignant,
The curse of Cain, that tempts us all to roam?
Your healths, great-hearted, staunch, devoted women,
Ready, for sake of home, to live the life
Of serfs, in duty fearless as are few men,
Who if Death stood amidst the path of wife
Would swerve not to the left side or the right side,
But walk straight on into his cold embrace;
Who carry your life-exile from life's bright side
Branded indelibly upon your face.
Your healths, stout-hearted, cheery, little women,
With little homes, small means, and little spheres,
Who manage with your small lights to illumine
Lives not too full of this world's gifts and cheers;
Who smiling share the struggle for subsistence,
And laughing lighten many a hard day;
And all without one glimmer in the distance
To give you hope that clouds will clear away.
Your healths, brave sufferers in the early trials
Of genius in uncongenial straits,
Who feel that, when ill-fate has drained her vials,
Veiled in the future somewhere glory waits:
Wives of Carlyles and sisters loved of Wordsworths,
Who fight the good fight spite of toils and strains,
Confident that your hero has whole herds worths
Of ordinary mortals' aims and brains.
Your healths, refined, appreciative, women,
Graceful and bright, easy in circumstance,
Who make it yours to cheer all good and true men
Upon their high emprize with kindly glance;
Women with yearnings noble and poetic,
Women with worship for heroic deeds,
Longing to make oblation sympathetic
Or all your witchery for great men's meeds.
Your health, O much revered and Royal Woman
Sitting aloft on empire's dazzling heights,
Crowned with a halo almost superhuman,
And thrown into relief with such strong lights;
And yours, Princess, whose days have ever found you
Offering some fresh word or act of grace
To the poor folk who love to throng around you
To gaze upon the fairness of your face,
Who will not drink the toast of wives and sweet hearts?
Who will not pledge "Our sweethearts and our wives?"
Bright hearts and brave hearts, gentle hearts and great hearts,
Deigned to be stars or flowers of our lives;
Beautiful, graceful, love-inspiring lovers,
Dutiful, dauntless, uncomplaining mates?
Each woman that I meet to me discovers
Some new gift to alleviate our fates.
First published in The Queenslander, 21 July 1883
Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography
See also.
