Ye women! Upon whose kindly bosoms Lisping children nestle! _Remember!_ For the eyes that saw deepest into your human Woe, And trembled in humid tenderness For your degraded humanity, _Are closed for ever!_ _Remember!_ For the lips That broke your galling fetters With the fiery thunder of his manhood's Eloquence! Re-adjusting, In all its God-given symmetry, The disjointed framework Of your human lives, Are stilled! Ye women! Who stood alone, On the outer fringes of proud Humanity! Appealing in your helpless degradation To the pity of the world! _Remember!_ For the hand That made room for you Amongst the nations of the earth, And placed a seat For you In the halls of civilization! _Remember!_ For the hand, That dug out of the shifting sands Of public opinion The gem you wear proudly upon your bosoms, _Lies cold in death!_ Ye women, _Remember!_ As ye take a last lingering look At the face Of your dead martyr, On which the surging tide of calumny And misconception Have left their harrowing traces, That he was The great high priest of your nation, Ministering To its highest aspirations! _Remember!_ The hand That lies with such pathetic attitude Above his quiet bosom, Opened wide the gates of freedom To your weary footsteps, And let you in!