Jane AddamsOne wrote of Filomena, saint of old,
Who bore a lamp in dark and lonesome place;
And with like blessed charity and grace
Wrought England's Florence with her heart of gold.
Now comes another who with courage bold
Dark pathways of sad souls with love doth trace,
Light comes to all who look upon her face
Transfigured with the faith of martyrs old.
O'er sorrowing hearts her loving heart doth yearn,
Deep grief to allay and to assuage the pain;
Great wrongs to right her eager soul doth burn,
And always from the false the true discern.
Be this her joy, her work is not in vain,
In loyal hearts enshrined, our own Saint Jane.
October 8, 1923