She rises at dawn to feed the kine,
And spins the wool by the firelight glow;
Yet still in her heart the stars shine,
Though toil and care are all she knows.
She tends the hearth and mends the seam,
And watches children while they play;
And in the quiet of the stream
She lifts her thoughts from work away.
Her hands are worn, her eyes are keen,
Her spirit strong, her patience long;
She moves through life with steady mien,
Unseen by most, yet ever strong.