Patrick Regan has kindly shared the material from his George Heath site with readers of the Victorian Web, who may wish to consult the original.
I will be useful and happy yet,
Though my path hath been shaded long;
Though, frail and dependent, misfortune hath damped
The dawn of my life and song.
I will be patient, and strong, and brave,
And true to my purpose set;
My being shall gloriously rise over self —
I will be earnest yet!
The rare woman-form that is all too dear,
And the love that may never be mine,
And the fair home-ties I have dreamed of so,
My soul shall be brave to resign.
The calmness will come in God's good time,
And the yearnings will cease to fret:
I'll sow all my tenderness wide in the world —
I will be conqueror yet!
And those who have scorned me shall blush to scorn,
The haughty shall cease to sneer;
And those who have deemed me ambitious and proud
Shall learn to esteem and revere.
The wounded shall seek me for sympathy,
The erring, the hard-beset:
I'll live in all hearts 'mongst their treasured things —
I will be cherished yet!
I'll gather life's sunbeams into my heart,
And focus them round me free;
And many a sad heart and weary eye
Shall brighten to light on me.
Kind words shall cheer, loving deeds rejoice,
And pity shall soften regret:
The friendless shall want for a friend no more —
I will be useful yet!
I'll forge me links to enmesh my world
In a boundless charity;
I'll clothe all objects in robes of song
And a wide-souled piety.
My life shall be empty and barren no more,
Its ills shall be bravely met;
The interests of all whom I love shall be mine —
I will be noble yet!
I'll sow a flower when I may, and dull
When I can the galling flints;
And future fathers, when counselling youth,
Shall reverently point at my prints.
And women shall ease them with weeping and say,
As they point at the greening sod,
"The man that lies there was as true a man
As ever went up to God."
Last modified 3 September 2002