When in a crush of many misled men
Our World shutters of horrible deeds,
A counter is born by all strong women
Who bear our children, sow new seeds :
Then, fresh generations gain the wheel,
Trim the sails, set the compass to steer
Vessel into clear waters. They then feel
Gaining mastery is something not to fear :
And then, we of a lesser state find comfort
In understanding life on Earth gains in merit
From vitality pent up with genes of the sort,
Wishing for a more perfect union, to inherit.
Be these the dreams to set aside our own misery
Of discontent, discarded woes, or gain its mastery.
Ronald C. Downie
An English sonnet