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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396017" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Women Of The West</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">They left the vine-wreathed cottage and the mansion on the hill,<br>The houses in the busy streets where life is never still,<br>The pleasures of the city, and the friends they cherished best:<br>For love they faced the wilderness -the Women of the West. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The roar, and rush, and fever of the city died away,<br>And the old-time joys and faces-they were gone for many a day;<br>In their place the lurching coach-wheel, or the creaking bullock-chains,<br>O'er the everlasting sameness of the never-ending plains. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the slab-built, zinc-roofed homestead of some lately taken run,<br>In the tent beside the bankment of a railway just begun,<br>In the huts on new selections, in the camps of man's unrest,<br>On the frontiers of the Nation, live the Women of the West. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The red sun robs their beauty and, in weariness and pain,<br>The slow years steal the nameless grace that never comes again;<br>And there are hours men cannot soothe, and words men cannot say<br>The nearest woman's face may be a hundred miles away. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wide bush holds the secrets of their longing and desires,<br>When the white stars in reverence light their holy altar fires,<br>And silence, like the touch of God, sinks deep into the breast<br>Perchance He hears and understands the Women of the West. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For them no trumpet sounds the call, no poet plies his arts<br>They only hear the beating of their gallant, loving hearts.<br>But they have sung with silent lives the song all songs above?<br>The holiness of sacrifice, the dignity of love. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well have we held our fathers creed. No call has passed us by.<br>We faced and fought the wilderness, we sent our sons to die.<br>And we have hearts to do and dare, and yet, o'er all the rest,<br>The hearts that made the Nation were the Women of the West.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Essex+Evans">George Essex Evans</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396017" data-title="Women Of The West de George Essex Evans" data-description="They left the vine-wreathed cottage and the mansion on the hill,
The houses in the busy streets where life is never still,
The pleasures of the city, and the friends they cherished best:
For love they faced the wilderness -the Women of the West. 
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