Suffrage Songs and Verses

Transcriber’s Note

This transcription has retained variant spelling, and inconsistent hyphenation. A few tangible printing errors have been corrected.

Suffrage Songs and Verses

By

CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN

10 Cents

THE CHARLTON COMPANY

67 Wall Street, New York

1911

TABLE OF CONTENTS

NOTE—The poems marked [*] are from In This Our World by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Copyright, 1898, by Small, Maynard and Co., and are reprinted by the kind permission of the publishers. Those marked [†] are from the Woman’s Journal, and those marked [f] are from THE FORERUNNER.

SHE WALKETH VEILED AND SLEEPING [*]

She walketh veiled and sleeping,

For she knoweth not her power;

She obeyeth but the pleading

Of her heart, and the high leading

Of her soul, unto this hour.

Slow advancing, halting, creeping,

Comes the Woman to the hour!—

She walketh veiled and sleeping,

For she knoweth not her power.

COMING [f]

Because the time is ripe, the age is ready,

Because the world her woman’s help demands,

Out of the long subjection and seclusion

Come to our field of warfare and confusion

The mother’s heart and hands.

Long has she stood aside, endured and waited,

While man swung forward, toiling on alone;

Now, for the weary man, so long ill-mated,

Now, for the world for which she was created,

Comes woman to her own.

Not for herself! though sweet the air of freedom;

Not for herself, though dear the new-born power;

But for the child, who needs a nobler mother,

For the whole people, needing one another,

Comes woman to her hour.

LOCKED INSIDE [f]

She beats upon her bolted door,

With faint weak hands;

Drearily walks the narrow floor;

Sullenly sits, blank walls before;

Despairing stands.

Life calls her, Duty, Pleasure, Gain—

Her dreams respond;

But the blank daylights wax and wane,

Dull peace, sharp agony, slow pain—

No hope beyond.

Till she comes a thought! She lifts her head,

The world grows wide!

A voice—as if clear words were said—

“Your door, O long imprisonéd,

Is locked inside!”

NOW [f]

With God Above—Beneath—Beside—

Without—Within—and Everywhere;

Rising with the resistless tide

Of life, and Sure of Getting There.

Patient with Nature’s long delay,

Proud of our conscious upward swing;

Not sorry for a single day,

And Not Afraid of Anything!

With Motherhood at last awake—

With Power to Do and Light to See—

Women may now begin to Make

The People we are Meant to Be!

WOMEN OF TO-DAY [*]

You women of today who fear so much

The women of the future, showing how

The dangers of her course are such and such—

What are you now?

Mothers and Wives and Housekeepers, forsooth!

Great names, you cry, full scope to rule and please,

Room for wise age and energetic youth!—

But are you these?

Housekeepers? Do you then, like those of yore,

Keep house with power and pride, with grace and ease?

No, you keep servants only! What is more—

You don’t keep these!

Wives, say you? Wives! Blessed indeed are they

Who hold of love the everlasting keys,

Keeping their husbands’ hearts! Alas the day!

You don’t keep these!

And mothers? Pitying Heaven! Mark the cry

From cradle death-beds! Mothers on their knees!

Why, half the children born, as children, die!

You don’t keep these!

And still the wailing babies come and go,

And homes are waste, and husbands’ hearts fly far;

There is no hope until you dare to know

The thing you are!

BOYS WILL BE BOYS [f]

“Boys will be boys,” and boys have had their day;

Boy-mischief and boy-carelessness and noise

Extenuated all, allowed, excused and smoothed away,

Each duty missed, each damaging wild act,

By this meek statement of unquestioned fact—

Boys will be boys!

Now, “women will be women.” Mark the change;

Calm motherhood in place of boisterous youth;

No warfare now; to manage and arrange,

To nurture with wise care, is woman’s way,

In peace and fruitful industry her sway,

In love and truth.

FOR FEAR [f]

For fear of prowling beasts at night

They blocked the cave;

Women and children hid from sight,

Men scarce more brave.

For fear of warrior’s sword and spear

They barred the gate;

Women and children lived in fear,

Men lived in hate.

For fear of criminals today

We lock the door;

Women and children still to stay

Hid evermore.

Come out! Ye need no longer hide!

What fear you now?

No wolf nor lion waits outside—

Only a cow.

Come out! The world approaches peace,

War nears its end;

No warrior watches your release—

Only a friend.

Come out! The night of crime has fled—

Day is begun;

Here is no criminal to dread—

Only your son.

The world, half yours, demands your care,

Waken and come!

Make it a woman’s world; safe, fair,

Garden and home.

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.

WEDDED BLISS [*]

“O come and be my mate!” said the Eagle to the Hen;

“I love to soar, but then

I want my mate to rest

Forever in the nest!”

Said the Hen, “I cannot fly,

I have no wish to try,

But I joy to see my mate careening through the sky!”

They wed, and cried, “Ah, this is Love, my own!”

And the Hen sat, the Eagle soared, alone.

“O come and be my mate!” said the Lion to the Sheep;

“My love for you is deep!

I slay, a Lion should,

But you are mild and good!”

Said the sheep, “I do no ill—

Could not, had I the will—.

But I joy to see my mate pursue, devour and kill.”

They wed, and cried, “Ah, this is Love, my own!”

And the Sheep browsed, the Lion prowled, alone.

“O come and be my mate!” said the Salmon to the Clam;

“You are not wise, but I am.

I know sea and stream as well,

You know nothing but your shell.”

Said the Clam, “I’m slow of motion,

But my love is all devotion,

And I joy to have my mate traverse lake and stream and ocean!”

They wed, and cried, “Ah, this is Love, my own!”

And the Clam sucked, the Salmon swam, alone.

FEMALES [*]

The female fox she is a fox;

The female whale a whale;

The female eagle holds her place

As representative of race

As truly as the male.

The mother hen doth scratch for her chicks,

And scratch for herself beside;

The mother cow doth nurse her calf,

Yet fares as well as her other half

In the pasture free and wide.

The female bird doth soar in air;

The female fish doth swim;

The fleet-foot mare upon the course

Doth hold her own with the flying horse—

Yea and she beateth him!

One female in the world we find

Telling a different tale.

It is the female of our race,

Who holds a parasitic place

Dependent on the male.

Not so, saith she, ye slander me!

No parasite am I.

I earn my living as a wife;

My children take my very life;

Why should I share in human strife,

To plant and build and buy?

The human race holds highest place

In all the world so wide,

Yet these inferior females wive,

And raise their little ones alive,

And feed themselves beside.

The race is higher than the sex,

Though sex be fair and good;

A Human Creature is your state,