The Plea of the WomenBy Katherine Parrott Sorringe(In “The Woman’s Journal.”)
By Katherine Parrott Sorringe
(In “The Woman’s Journal.”)
Standing before you with suppliant hands,Mothers and wives and daughters, weSue for the justice long denied;—Give us the vote that makes us free!She who went down to the gates of death,Joyful, to fling the life-doors wide,Mother of statesman, soldier, saint—Set this crown on her patient pride!She, your comrade, who steadfast stoodShoulder to shoulder, through storm and night,Held up your hands till victory pealed—Grant her this prize of well-fought fight.Who trips laughing across your life,Light of your love, your soul made fair?Give her this pledge of a father’s faith,Flower o’ freedom to deck her hair!Mothers and wives and daughters, we,Shall we ask in vain, with suppliant hand?We, who are children of the free!We, who are builders in the land!
Standing before you with suppliant hands,Mothers and wives and daughters, weSue for the justice long denied;—Give us the vote that makes us free!She who went down to the gates of death,Joyful, to fling the life-doors wide,Mother of statesman, soldier, saint—Set this crown on her patient pride!She, your comrade, who steadfast stoodShoulder to shoulder, through storm and night,Held up your hands till victory pealed—Grant her this prize of well-fought fight.Who trips laughing across your life,Light of your love, your soul made fair?Give her this pledge of a father’s faith,Flower o’ freedom to deck her hair!Mothers and wives and daughters, we,Shall we ask in vain, with suppliant hand?We, who are children of the free!We, who are builders in the land!
Standing before you with suppliant hands,Mothers and wives and daughters, weSue for the justice long denied;—Give us the vote that makes us free!
Standing before you with suppliant hands,
Mothers and wives and daughters, we
Sue for the justice long denied;—
Give us the vote that makes us free!
She who went down to the gates of death,Joyful, to fling the life-doors wide,Mother of statesman, soldier, saint—Set this crown on her patient pride!
She who went down to the gates of death,
Joyful, to fling the life-doors wide,
Mother of statesman, soldier, saint—
Set this crown on her patient pride!
She, your comrade, who steadfast stoodShoulder to shoulder, through storm and night,Held up your hands till victory pealed—Grant her this prize of well-fought fight.
She, your comrade, who steadfast stood
Shoulder to shoulder, through storm and night,
Held up your hands till victory pealed—
Grant her this prize of well-fought fight.
Who trips laughing across your life,Light of your love, your soul made fair?Give her this pledge of a father’s faith,Flower o’ freedom to deck her hair!
Who trips laughing across your life,
Light of your love, your soul made fair?
Give her this pledge of a father’s faith,
Flower o’ freedom to deck her hair!
Mothers and wives and daughters, we,Shall we ask in vain, with suppliant hand?We, who are children of the free!We, who are builders in the land!
Mothers and wives and daughters, we,
Shall we ask in vain, with suppliant hand?
We, who are children of the free!
We, who are builders in the land!