[Written for the Sentinel.]


A woman trod the outskirts of the city,
Hungry and lone, weary of want and stress;
And some who passed her cast a glance of pity,
Or checked their laughter at her loneliness.

She prayed for more—to satisfy the craving
Of hungry children waiting her return;
She prayed for less—of stint and pinch and saving,
The forced endurance of things, hard to learn.

She did not pray for death. No terror bound her;
No coward-sickness seized her hungry soul;
She longed to live, to work like others round her
With hope her anchor and success her goal.

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February 4, 1911

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