Mother To Child *

How best can I serve thee, my child! My child! Flesh of my flesh and dear heart of my heart! Once thou wast within me--I held thee--I fed thee-- By the force of my loving and longing I led thee-- Now we are apart!

I may blind thee with kisses and crush with embracing, Thy warm mouth in my neck and our arms interlacing; But here in my body my soul lives alone, And thou answerest me from a house of thine own-- That house which I builded!

Which we builded together, thy father and I; In which thou must live, O my darling, and die! Not one stone can I alter, one atom relay-- Not to save or defend thee or help thee to stay-- That gift is completed!

How best can I serve thee? O child, if they knew How my heart aches with loving! How deep and how true, How brave and enduring, how patient, how strong, How longing for good and how fearful of wrong, Is the love of thy mother!

Could I crown thee with riches! Surround, overflow thee With fame and with power till the whole world should know thee; With wisdom and genius to hold the world still, To bring laughter and tears, joy and pain, at thy will, Still--thou mightst not be happy!

Such have lived--and in sorrow. The greater the mind The wider and deeper the grief it can find. The richer, the gladder, the more thou canst feel The keen stings that a lifetime is sure to reveal. O my child! Must thou suffer?

Is there no way my life can save thine from a pain? Is the love of a mother no possible gain? No labor of Hercules--search for the Grail-- No way for this wonderful love to avail? God in Heaven--O teach me!

My prayer has been answered. The pain thou must bear Is the pain of the world’s life which thy life must share. Thou art one with the world--though I love thee the best; And to save thee from pain I must save all the rest-- Well--with God’s help I’ll do it.

Thou art one with the rest. I must love thee in them. Thou wilt sin with the rest; and thy mother must stem The world’s sin. Thou wilt weep, and thy mother must dry The tears of the world lest her darling should cry. I will do it--God helping!

And I stand not alone. I will gather a band Of all loving mothers from land unto land. Our children are part of the world! Do ye hear? They are one with the world--we must hold them all dear! Love all for the child’s sake!

For the sake of my child I must hasten to save All the children on earth from the jail and the grave. For so, and so only, I lighten the share Of the pain of the world that my darling must bear-- Even so, and so only!

A QUESTION f

Why is it, God, that mother’s hearts are made So very deep and wide? How does it help the world that we should hold Such welling floods of pain till we are old, Because when we were young one grave was laid-- One baby died?

THE HOUSEWIFE f

Here is the House to hold me--cradle of all the race; Here is my lord and my love, here are my children dear-- Here is the House enclosing, the dear-loved dwelling place; Why should I ever weary for aught that I find not here?

Here for the hours of the day and the hours of the night; Bound with the bands of Duty, rivetted tight; Duty older than Adam--Duty that saw Acceptance utter and hopeless in the eyes of the serving squaw.

Food and the serving of food--that is my daylong care; What and when we shall eat, what and how we shall wear; Soiling and cleaning of things--that is my task in the main-- Soil them and clean them and soil them--soil them and clean them again.

To work at my trade by the dozen and never a trade to know; To plan like a Chinese puzzle--fitting and changing so; To think of a thousand details, each in a thousand ways; For my own immediate people and a possible love and praise.

My mind is trodden in circles, tiresome, narrow and hard, Useful, commonplace, private--simply a small backyard; And I the Mother of Nations!--Blind their struggle and vain!-- I cover the earth with my children--each with a housewife’s brain.