The New Woman

The New WomanBy Dora B. Montefiore(In “The Progressive Woman.” English Contemporary. Writer and speaker on woman and labor problems.)

By Dora B. Montefiore

(In “The Progressive Woman.” English Contemporary. Writer and speaker on woman and labor problems.)

Pausing on the century’s threshold,With her face toward the dawn,Stands a tall and radiant presence;In her eyes the light of morn,On her brow the flush of knowledgeWon in spite of curse and ban,In her heart the mystic watchwordOf the Brotherhood of Man.She is listening to the heartbeatsOf the People in its pain;She is pondering social problemsWhich appeal to heart and brain.She is daring for the first timeBoth to think—and then to act;She is flouting social fictions,Changing social lie—for Fact.Centuries she followed blindfoldWhere her lord and master led;Lived his faith, embraced his morals;Trod but where he bade her tread.Till one day the light broke round her,And she saw with horror’s gaze,All the filth and mire of passionChoking up the world’s highways.Saw the infants doomed to suffering,Saw the maidens slaves to lust,Saw the starving mothers barterSouls and bodies for a crust.Saw the workers crushed by sweaters,Heard the cry go up, “How long?”Saw the weak and feeble sink ’neathCompetition’s cursed wrong.For a moment paused she shuddering;Hers in part the guilt, the blame—Untrue to herself and others,Careless to her sister’s shame.Then, she rose—with inward visionNerving all her powers for good;Feeling one with suffering sistersIn a perfect womanhood.Rising ever ’bove the struggleFor this mortal fleeting life;Listening to the God within herUrging Love—forbidding Strife.Love and care for life of othersWho with her must fall or rise.This the lesson through the agesTaught to her by Nature Wise.She had pondered o’er the teaching,She had made its truths her own;Grasped them in their fullest meaning,As “New Woman” she is known.’Tis her enemies have baptized herBut she gladly claims the name;Hers it is to make a gloryWhat was meant to be a shame.Thinking high thoughts, living simply,Dignified by labor done;Changing the old years of thraldomFor new freedom—hardly won.Clear-eyed, selfless, saved through knowledge,With her ideals fixed above,We may greet in the “New Woman”The old perfect Law of Love.

Pausing on the century’s threshold,With her face toward the dawn,Stands a tall and radiant presence;In her eyes the light of morn,On her brow the flush of knowledgeWon in spite of curse and ban,In her heart the mystic watchwordOf the Brotherhood of Man.She is listening to the heartbeatsOf the People in its pain;She is pondering social problemsWhich appeal to heart and brain.She is daring for the first timeBoth to think—and then to act;She is flouting social fictions,Changing social lie—for Fact.Centuries she followed blindfoldWhere her lord and master led;Lived his faith, embraced his morals;Trod but where he bade her tread.Till one day the light broke round her,And she saw with horror’s gaze,All the filth and mire of passionChoking up the world’s highways.Saw the infants doomed to suffering,Saw the maidens slaves to lust,Saw the starving mothers barterSouls and bodies for a crust.Saw the workers crushed by sweaters,Heard the cry go up, “How long?”Saw the weak and feeble sink ’neathCompetition’s cursed wrong.For a moment paused she shuddering;Hers in part the guilt, the blame—Untrue to herself and others,Careless to her sister’s shame.Then, she rose—with inward visionNerving all her powers for good;Feeling one with suffering sistersIn a perfect womanhood.Rising ever ’bove the struggleFor this mortal fleeting life;Listening to the God within herUrging Love—forbidding Strife.Love and care for life of othersWho with her must fall or rise.This the lesson through the agesTaught to her by Nature Wise.She had pondered o’er the teaching,She had made its truths her own;Grasped them in their fullest meaning,As “New Woman” she is known.’Tis her enemies have baptized herBut she gladly claims the name;Hers it is to make a gloryWhat was meant to be a shame.Thinking high thoughts, living simply,Dignified by labor done;Changing the old years of thraldomFor new freedom—hardly won.Clear-eyed, selfless, saved through knowledge,With her ideals fixed above,We may greet in the “New Woman”The old perfect Law of Love.

Pausing on the century’s threshold,With her face toward the dawn,Stands a tall and radiant presence;In her eyes the light of morn,On her brow the flush of knowledgeWon in spite of curse and ban,In her heart the mystic watchwordOf the Brotherhood of Man.

Pausing on the century’s threshold,

With her face toward the dawn,

Stands a tall and radiant presence;

In her eyes the light of morn,

On her brow the flush of knowledge

Won in spite of curse and ban,

In her heart the mystic watchword

Of the Brotherhood of Man.

She is listening to the heartbeatsOf the People in its pain;She is pondering social problemsWhich appeal to heart and brain.She is daring for the first timeBoth to think—and then to act;She is flouting social fictions,Changing social lie—for Fact.

She is listening to the heartbeats

Of the People in its pain;

She is pondering social problems

Which appeal to heart and brain.

She is daring for the first time

Both to think—and then to act;

She is flouting social fictions,

Changing social lie—for Fact.

Centuries she followed blindfoldWhere her lord and master led;Lived his faith, embraced his morals;Trod but where he bade her tread.Till one day the light broke round her,And she saw with horror’s gaze,All the filth and mire of passionChoking up the world’s highways.

Centuries she followed blindfold

Where her lord and master led;

Lived his faith, embraced his morals;

Trod but where he bade her tread.

Till one day the light broke round her,

And she saw with horror’s gaze,

All the filth and mire of passion

Choking up the world’s highways.

Saw the infants doomed to suffering,Saw the maidens slaves to lust,Saw the starving mothers barterSouls and bodies for a crust.Saw the workers crushed by sweaters,Heard the cry go up, “How long?”Saw the weak and feeble sink ’neathCompetition’s cursed wrong.

Saw the infants doomed to suffering,

Saw the maidens slaves to lust,

Saw the starving mothers barter

Souls and bodies for a crust.

Saw the workers crushed by sweaters,

Heard the cry go up, “How long?”

Saw the weak and feeble sink ’neath

Competition’s cursed wrong.

For a moment paused she shuddering;Hers in part the guilt, the blame—Untrue to herself and others,Careless to her sister’s shame.Then, she rose—with inward visionNerving all her powers for good;Feeling one with suffering sistersIn a perfect womanhood.

For a moment paused she shuddering;

Hers in part the guilt, the blame—

Untrue to herself and others,

Careless to her sister’s shame.

Then, she rose—with inward vision

Nerving all her powers for good;

Feeling one with suffering sisters

In a perfect womanhood.

Rising ever ’bove the struggleFor this mortal fleeting life;Listening to the God within herUrging Love—forbidding Strife.Love and care for life of othersWho with her must fall or rise.This the lesson through the agesTaught to her by Nature Wise.

Rising ever ’bove the struggle

For this mortal fleeting life;

Listening to the God within her

Urging Love—forbidding Strife.

Love and care for life of others

Who with her must fall or rise.

This the lesson through the ages

Taught to her by Nature Wise.

She had pondered o’er the teaching,She had made its truths her own;Grasped them in their fullest meaning,As “New Woman” she is known.’Tis her enemies have baptized herBut she gladly claims the name;Hers it is to make a gloryWhat was meant to be a shame.

She had pondered o’er the teaching,

She had made its truths her own;

Grasped them in their fullest meaning,

As “New Woman” she is known.

’Tis her enemies have baptized her

But she gladly claims the name;

Hers it is to make a glory

What was meant to be a shame.

Thinking high thoughts, living simply,Dignified by labor done;Changing the old years of thraldomFor new freedom—hardly won.Clear-eyed, selfless, saved through knowledge,With her ideals fixed above,We may greet in the “New Woman”The old perfect Law of Love.

Thinking high thoughts, living simply,

Dignified by labor done;

Changing the old years of thraldom

For new freedom—hardly won.

Clear-eyed, selfless, saved through knowledge,

With her ideals fixed above,

We may greet in the “New Woman”

The old perfect Law of Love.


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