Mother Mind

Julia Ward Howe 1819 (New York City) – 1910 (Portsmouth)

I never made a poem, dear friend--
  I never sat me down, and said,
  This cunning brain and patient hand
  Shall fashion something to be read.
  Men often came to me, and prayed
  I should indite a fitting verse
  For fast, or festival, or in
  Some stately pageant to rehearse.
  (As if, than Balaam more endowed,
  I of myself could bless or curse.)

  Reluctantly I bade them go,
  Ungladdened by my poet-mite;
  My heart is not so churlish but
  Its loves to minister delight.

  But not a word I breathe is mine
  To sing, in praise of man or God;
  My Master calls, at noon or night,
  I know his whisper and his nod.

  Yet all my thoyghts to rhythms run,
  To rhyme, my wisdom and my wit?
  True, I consume my life in verse,
  But wouldst thou know how that is writ?

  'T is thus--through weary length of days,
  I bear a thought within my breast
  That greatens from my growth of soul,
  And waits, and will not be expressed.

  It greatens, till its hour has come,
  Not without pain, it sees the light;
  'Twixt smiles and tears I view it o'er,
  And dare not deem it perfect, quite.

  These children of my soul I keep
  Where scarce a mortal man may see,
  Yet not unconsecrate, dear friend,
  Baptismal rites they claim of thee.

Rate this poem:(0.00 / 0 votes)
Font size:
Collection  Edit     
 

Submitted on May 13, 2011

1:08 min read
83 Views

Julia Ward Howe

Julia Ward Howe was a prominent American abolitionist, social activist, poet, and the author of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic". more…

All Julia Ward Howe poems | Julia Ward Howe Books

FAVORITE (1 fan)

Discuss this Julia Ward Howe poem with the community:

0 Comments

    Translation

    Find a translation for this poem in other languages:

    Select another language:

    • - Select -
    • 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
    • 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
    • Español (Spanish)
    • Esperanto (Esperanto)
    • 日本語 (Japanese)
    • Português (Portuguese)
    • Deutsch (German)
    • العربية (Arabic)
    • Français (French)
    • Русский (Russian)
    • ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
    • 한국어 (Korean)
    • עברית (Hebrew)
    • Gaeilge (Irish)
    • Українська (Ukrainian)
    • اردو (Urdu)
    • Magyar (Hungarian)
    • मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
    • Indonesia (Indonesian)
    • Italiano (Italian)
    • தமிழ் (Tamil)
    • Türkçe (Turkish)
    • తెలుగు (Telugu)
    • ภาษาไทย (Thai)
    • Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
    • Čeština (Czech)
    • Polski (Polish)
    • Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
    • Românește (Romanian)
    • Nederlands (Dutch)
    • Ελληνικά (Greek)
    • Latinum (Latin)
    • Svenska (Swedish)
    • Dansk (Danish)
    • Suomi (Finnish)
    • فارسی (Persian)
    • ייִדיש (Yiddish)
    • հայերեն (Armenian)
    • Norsk (Norwegian)
    • English (English)

    Citation

    Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:

    Style:MLAChicagoAPA

    "Mother Mind" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 3 Dec. 2020. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/24733/mother-mind>.

    We need you!

    Help us build the largest poetry community and poems collection on the web!

    Our favorite collection of

    Famous Poets

    »

    Thanks for your vote! We truly appreciate your support.