O, type of truest womanhood!
The deepest wounded, yet most brave!
Surely the merciful All-Good
To thee hath given the power to save.
For when the sufferer's eyes were dim
With mists, presaging all we feared,
The light in thine which fell on him
Dispelled those mists, and soothed and cheered.
And when his fainting heart was stirred
By the bowed Nation's pleading prayer,
Thine was the unfaltering voice he heard
That whispered—"Patience, God will spare!"