She, buffeted so like a willow tree,
Does prove the helpless object of those gales
Which threaten life, and limb, and dignity -
That dignity urbanity assails.
She, by brute force nigh forced to kiss the earth,
So wan and frail, endentured to the dance,
Is stripped of what, when lost, engenders dearth,
Who can but rue the happenstance of chance.
Oh, how she bends till she does nearly break -
Oh, how she bends to pray or else to weep
But for her own or for her children's sake,
As pain is free and misery is cheap.
She, buffeted, does bend as if to pray,
And God does hear what she comes near to say.