Impartiality - Free Audiobook

SANTA FILOMENA

                    Whene'er a noble deed is wrought,
                    Whene'er is spoken a noble thought,
                      Our hearts, in glad surprise,
                      To higher levels rise.

                    The tidal wave of deeper souls
                    Into our inmost being rolls,
                      And lifts us unawares
                      Out of all meaner cares.

                    Honor to those whose words or deeds
                    Thus help us in our daily needs,
                      And by their overflow
                      Raise us from what is low!

                    Thus thought I, as by night I read
                    Of the great army of the dead,
                      The trenches cold and damp,
                      The starved and frozen camp,

                    The wounded from the battle-plain,
                    In dreary hospitals of pain,
                      The cheerless corridors,
                      The cold and stony floors.

                    Lo! in that house of misery
                    A lady with a lamp I see
                      Pass through the glimmering gloom,
                      And flit from room to room.

                    And slow, as in a dream of bliss,
                    The speechless sufferer turns to kiss
                      Her shadow, as it falls
                      Upon the darkening walls.

                    As if a door in heaven should be
                    Opened and then closed suddenly,
                      The vision came and went,
                      The light shone and was spent.

                    On England's annals, through the long
                    Hereafter of her speech and song,
                      That light its rays shall cast
                      From portals of the past.

                    A Lady with a Lamp shall stand
                    In the great history of the land,
                      A noble type of good,
                      Heroic womanhood.

                    Nor even shall be wanting here
                    The palm, the lily, and the spear,
                      The symbols that of yore
                      Saint Filomena bore.