Myself
What am I?
I am Earth the mother,
With all her nebulous memories;
And the young Day, and Night her brother,
And every god that was and is.
As Eve I walked in paradise,
Dreaming of nations, braving
For knowledge; nor begrudged the price When the first baby first drew breath.
I sang Deborah's triumph song;
I struck the foe with Judith's sword; 'Twas I who to the angel said,"Behold the handmaid of the Lord!"I was fair Helen, she for whomA nation was content to die;
And Cleopatra, in whose
The world went down with Antony.
I am the harlot in the street,
And the veiled nun all undefiled;
In me must queen and beggar meet,
Wise age hark to the little child.
I am the life that ever is,
And the new glory that shall be;
The pain that dies, and the brave bliss That mounts to immortality.
Harriet Monroe
Other author posts
The Childless Woman
O Mother of that heap of clay, so passive on your breast, Now do you stare at death, woman, who yesterday were blest Now do you long to fare afar, and guide him on the Where he must wander all alone, his little feet astray
The Turbine
To W S M Look at her—there she sits upon her throne As ladylike and quiet as a nun
Night In State Street
Art thou he —The seer and sage, the hero and lover—yea, The man of men, then away from the haughtyday Come with me Ho—ho
Winter
Earth bears her sorrow gladly, like a nun, Her young face glowing through the icy veil The storms that threaten her, the winds that rail, Kindle a deeper color
