Oh! say not woman’s lot is hard,
Her path a path of sorrow;
To-day perchance, some joy debarred
May yield more joy tomorrow.
It is not hard — it cannot be,
To speak, in tongues of gladness,
To hush the sigh of misery,
And sooth the brow of sadness.
It is not hard sweet flowers to spread,
To strew the path with roses;
To smooth the couch and rest the head,
Where some loved friend reposes,
It is not hard, to trim the hearth
For brothers home returning;
To wake the songs of harmless mirth,
When winter fires are burning.
It is not hard, a sister’s love
To pay with love as tender;
When cares perplex, and trials prove,
A sister’s help to render.
It is not hard, when troubles come,
And doubts and fears distressing,
To shelter in a fathers home,
And feel a mother’s blessing.
It is not hard, when storms arise
‘Mid darkness and dejection,
To look to Heaven with trusting eyes,
And ask its kind protection.
Then say not woman’s lot is hard,
Her path the path of sorrow ;
Today, perchance, some joy debarred
May yield sweet peace tomorrow.
Richland County Observer (Richland Center, Wisconsin) Dec 25, 1855