III

Who climbed beside him, and who fought

And suffered and was glad?

Is she a lesser thing than he,

Who stained the slopes with bloody feet, or stood

Beside him on some hard-won eminence of hope

Exulting as the bold dawn swept

A harper hand along the ringing hills?

Flesh of his flesh, and of his soul the soul,

Hath she not fought, hath she not climbed?

And how is she a lesser thing?—

Nay, if she ever was

‘ Twas we that made her so, who called her queen

But kept her slave.