Be gentle with woman, our heart of hearts
Who loveth us even while life departs!
Oh, call her not fickle, nor false, nor vain!
Oh, touch not so tender a heart with pain!
What! woman, the treasure, the gem the flower!
The star that is bright in the wildest hour!
The bird that comes singing to the sturn breast
Ah! should we not teach it to love its nest?
Come on! let us vow that they are all fair,
Let's shout of their virtues to earth and air!
Let's sooth them, and guard them, and so repay
The love that they lend in the darker day!
Oh! value their gifts beyond gifts of gold,
All you of the sturner and courser mould,
And learn that their love amidst toil and strife
As the spirit that calmeth and crowneth life!
signed "Wm F S / Baltimore Sept 30, 1842"