“A woman is only a woman”--
These are the words you spoke.
And you deemed they were bright and caustic--
And you thought you had made us a joke.
Well, we who have been in the Tropics,
Who’ve noted the Eastern “way,”
’May be we should half forgive you
For some of the things you say.
When the Cave-man spat on his neighbor
And smote him hip and thigh--
When the Bronze-man slivered the boulders
Where the tin and the copper lie--
When the Iron-man reared him bridges
And engines of steam and steel--
What was the Light that lifted them,
And bade them to live and to feel?
When the sunshine turns to shadow--
And the shadow turns to night;
When faith and fair intention
Have fought them a failing fight;
When Hell has drawn nearest--
And God is very far--
Mayhap ye then can tell us who
The Ministering Angels are?
A rose is only a flower--
Can ye bring us the bud more rare?
“A woman is only a woman”--
Can ye show us the work more fair?
Harrie ye all Creation--
Look ye without surcease,
And when ye are weary and broken, kneel--
To your Master’s masterpiece.