The Song Of The Women

By Rudyard Kipling

How shall she know the worship we would do her? The walls are high, and she is very far. How shall the woman's message reach unto her Above the tumult of the packed bazaar? Free wind of March, against the lattice blowing, Bear thou our thanks, lest she depart unknowing. Go forth across the fields we may not roam in, Go forth beyond the trees that rim the city, To whatsoe'er fair place she hath her home in, Who dowered us with walth of love and pity. Out of our shadow pass, and seek her singing, "I have no gifts but Love alone for bringing." Say that we be a feeble folk who greet her, But old in grief, and very wise in tears; Say that we, being desolate, entreat her That she forget us not in after years; For we have seen the light, and it were grievous To dim that dawning if our lady leave us. By life that ebbed with none to stanch the failing By Love's sad harvest garnered in the spring, When Love in ignorance wept unavailing O'er young buds dead before their blossoming; By all the grey owl watched, the pale moon viewed, In past grim years, declare our gratitude! By hands uplifted to the Gods that heard not, By fits that found no favor in their sight, By faces bent above the babe that stirred not, By nameless horrors of the stifling night; By ills foredone, by peace her toils discover, Bid Earth be good beneath and Heaven above her! If she have sent her servants in our pain If she have fought with Death and dulled his sword; If she have given back our sick again. And to the breast the wakling lips restored, Is it a little thing that she has wrought? Then Life and Death and Motherhood be nought. Go forth, O wind, our message on thy wings, And they shall hear thee pass and bid thee speed, In reed-roofed hut, or white-walled home of kings, Who have been helpen by ther in their need. All spring shall give thee fragrance, and the wheat Shall be a tasselled floorcloth to thy feet. Haste, for our hearts are with thee, take no rest! Loud-voiced ambassador, from sea to sea Proclaim the blessing, mainfold, confessed. Of those in darkness by her hand set free. Then very softly to her presence move, And whisper: "Lady, lo, they know and love!"

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Poem Details

Language: English

Keywords: Public Domain

Source: Public Domain Collection

Rights/Permissions: Public Domain

Analysis & Notes:

Rudyard Kipling’s "The Song of the Women" is a Lyric Poem with strong elements of Devotional Praise and Communal Gratitude. The poem takes the form of a collective voice—an entire community expressing heartfelt thanks to a woman who has brought them healing, mercy, and hope. Although the woman’s specific identity is not stated, the reverent tone and references to life-saving efforts suggest she is a nurse, doctor, or humanitarian figure. The central theme is gratitude: the profound and almost sacred appreciation of a people once abandoned to grief and suffering, now touched and transformed by her compassion.

The tone is exalted, solemn, and deeply emotional, filled with a mixture of awe and love. Throughout the poem, Kipling uses the image of a wind bearing their message as a metaphor for their longing to bridge the distance—social, physical, and symbolic—that separates them from their benefactor. The imagery is rich and layered: references to “the packed bazaar” evoke the everyday clamor of life from which their thanks must somehow rise, while images of barren fields, silent infants, and nameless night horrors evoke the suffering she has helped to heal. Structurally, the poem uses regular appeals to natural elements—wind, wheat, springtime—to carry their gratitude across the land and enshrine it in the very earth and sky.

The repeated invocation of griefs endured—"hands uplifted to the Gods that heard not," "young buds dead before their blossoming"—builds a devastating portrait of collective loss, heightening the magnitude of the woman's redemptive acts. Kipling elevates her service beyond individual deeds, presenting it as a cosmic good: "If she have fought with Death and dulled his sword... Is it a little thing that she has wrought?" The final movement of the poem urges the wind to whisper softly to her: not only has she saved lives, but she has been loved and honored by those she served, binding human and divine realms in gratitude.

Ultimately, "The Song of the Women" is a beautiful, solemn hymn to compassion, sacrifice, and memory. Kipling captures the unpayable debt owed to healers and saviors, presenting their work not merely as kindness but as something that redeems the suffering of entire generations. It stands as one of his most heartfelt tributes to the dignity of service and the transformative power of love given freely.