The hero may perish his country to save
And he lives in the records of fame;
The sage may the dungeons of tyranny brave --
Ever honour'd and blest be his name!
But virtue, that silently toils and expires
No wreath for the brow to adorn
That asks but a smile -- but a fond sigh requires --
O woman! that virtue is thine!
And he lives in the records of fame;
The sage may the dungeons of tyranny brave --
Ever honour'd and blest be his name!
But virtue, that silently toils and expires
No wreath for the brow to adorn
That asks but a smile -- but a fond sigh requires --
O woman! that virtue is thine!
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