There's not a stately hall, <br />There's not a cottage fair, <br />That proudly stands on Southern soil, <br />Or softly nestles there, <br />But in its peaceful walls <br />With wealth or comfort blessed, <br />A stormy battle fierce hath raged <br />In gentle woman's breast. <br /> <br />There Love, the true, the brave, <br />The beautiful, the strong, <br />Wrestles with Duty, gaunt and stern,- <br />Wrestles and struggles long. <br />He falls, no more again <br />His giant foe to meet; <br />Bleeding at every opening vein, <br />Love falls at Duty's feet. <br /> <br />O Daughter of the South! <br />No victor's crown be thine, <br />Not thine upon the tented field <br />In martial pomp to shine; <br />But with unfaltering trust <br />In Him who rules on high, <br />To deck thy loved ones for the fray, <br />And send them forth to die. <br /> <br />She, the tried, the true, <br />The loving wife of years, <br />Chokes down the rising agony, <br />Drives back the starting tears; <br />'I yield thee up,' she cries, <br />'In the country's cause to fight; <br />Strike for our own, our children's home <br />And God defend the right.' <br /> <br />O Daughter of the South! <br />When our fair land is free, <br />When peace her lovely mantle throws <br />Softly o'er land and sea, <br />History shall tell how thou <br />Hast nobly borne thy part, <br />And won the proudest triumph yet - <br />The victory of the heart.<br /><br />Anonymous Americas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/victories-of-the-heart/
