Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SISTERS by FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL

First Line: OH! FOR A FIERY SCROLL, AND A TRUMPET OF THUNDER MIGHT
Last Line: WINNING HIS INDIAN GEMS TO SHINE IN HIS GLORIOUS CROWN!
Subject(s): SISTERS;
OH! for a fiery scroll, and a trumpet of thunder might,
To startle the silken dreams of English women at ease,
Circled with peace and joy, and dwelling where truth and light
Are shining fair as the stars, and free as the western breeze!

Oh! for a clarion voice to reach and stir their nest,
With the story of sisters' woes gathering day by day
Over the Indian homes (sepulchres rather than rest),
Till they rouse in the strength of the Lord, and roll the stone away.

@3Sisters!@1 Scorn not the name, for ye cannot alter the fact!
Deem ye the darker tint of the glowing South shall be
Valid excuse above for the Priest's and Levite's act,
If ye pass on the other side, and say that ye did not see?

@3Sisters!@1 Yea, and they lie, not by the side of the road,
But hidden in loathsome caves, in crushed and quivering throngs,
Down-trodden, degraded, and dark, beneath the invisible load
Of centuries, echoing groans, black with inherited wrongs.

Made like our own strange selves, with memory, mind, and will;
Made with a heart to love, and a soul to live forever!
@3Sisters!@1 Is there no chord vibrating in musical thrill,
At the fall of that gentle word, to issue in bright endeavor?

@3Sisters!@1 Ye who have known the Elder Brother's love,—
Ye who have sat at His feet, and leant on His gracious breast,
Whose hearts are glad with the hope of His own blest home above,
Will ye not seek them out, and lead them to Him for rest?

Is it too great a thing? Will not @3one@1 rise and go,
Laying her joys aside, as the Master laid them down?
Seeking His lone and lost in the veilèd abodes of woe,
Winning His Indian gems to shine in His glorious crown!



Home: PoetryExplorer.net