O mighty-mouthed inventor of harmonies, O skilled to sing of Time or Eternity, God-gifted organ-voice of England, Milton, a name to resound for ages.

The woman's cause is man's. They rise or sink Together. / Dwarf'd or godlike, bound or free; miserable, / How shall men grow? - Let her be / All that not harms distinctive womanhood.

Can calm despair and wild unrest Be tenants of a single breast, Or sorrow such a changeling be?

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some devine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.

O last regret, regret can die!

Love will conquer at the last.

From yon blue heaven above us bent, The grand old gardener and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent.