How did she fight? She fought well.
   How did she light? Ah, she fell.
Why did she fall? God, who knows all,
         Only can tell.

   Those she was fighting for — they
   Surely would go to her? Nay!
What of her pain! Their's is the gain.
         Ever the way.

   Will they not help her to rise 
   If there is death in her eyes?
Can you not see? She made them free.
         What if she dies ?

   Can we not help her? Oh, no!
   In her good fight it is so
That all who work never must shirk
        Suff'ring and woe.

   But she'll not ever lie down –
   On her head, in the dust, is a crown
Jewelled and bright, under whose light
         She'll rise alone.

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