The Victor by Grace Strickler Dawson

I will go
Like a queen,
With a garland
In my hair.
None shall know
From my mien
What of bitterness
I bear.

I will woo
Those to envy
Who would pity
If they guessed—
If they knew
The ceaseless beating
Of the wings
In my breast.

I will wear
Their jealous glances
Like a silken mantle—
That I dare
Walk down endless
Empty days


Date: 1925

By: Grace Strickler Dawson (1891-1981)

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