by Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest

YOU never hear a woman boast
Of her endurance, yet I vow
The tiniest mite o' a woman has
More courage than a man, somehow.
Lor' bless me, when I hear a man
A-braggin' how he kep' right on
A pluggin', fightin' to'ards his goal,
With all his hope of winnin' gone,
A-puffin' out his chest with pride,
It makes me smile, becoz I know
If he 'd a woman's cross t' bear,
'At he 'd a give up long ago.
It 'pears t' me 'at woman is
Jes' equal parts o' nerve an' grit;
There is no task too great fer her,
She doesn't know such word as quit.
I've seen her when I knew her strength
Was failin' faster every day,
Still workin' on without complaint,
Findin', in some mysterious way,
The power t' overcome her aches,
An' all the weariness she knows.
Endurance! Not bin' ever yet
Has equaled what a woman shows!
An' when her back was like t' break,
An' man would plumb discouraged be,
I've heard a little woman say:
"The children need so much from me
I've got t' work," an' then she 'd start
Washin' an mendin' little clo'es;
An' then sit up till late at night
Darnin' the holes in little hose.
It mattered not how sick she wuz,
No task o' hers she ever shirked,
When man would quit an' go t' bed
That little woman bravely worked.
An' so it allus makes me smile
T' hear a man git up an' say
'T is wonderful what he endured,
An' how he worked from day t' day;
An' then t' tell in boastin' style
The hardships that he underwent,
Explainin' how he kep' his nerve
Although his strength was nearly spent.
For when it comes t' downright grit,
An' bearin' troubles great an' small,
An' winnin' spite of everything,
A little woman beats 'em all.

Last updated January 14, 2019