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Meditations - Hers

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

After the ball last night, when I came home

I stood before my mirror, and took note

Of all that men call beautiful. Delight,

Keen sweet delight, possessed me, when I saw

My own reflection smiling on me there,

Because your eyes, through all the swirling hours,

And in your slow good-night, had made a fact

Of what before I fancied might be so;

Yet knowing how men lie, by look and act,

I still had doubted. But I doubt no more,

I know you love me, love me. And I feel

Your satisfaction in my comeliness.

Beauty and youth, good health and willing mind,

A spotless reputation, and a heart

Longing for mating and for motherhood,

And lips unsullied by another's kiss -

These are the riches I can bring to you.

But as I sit here, thinking of it all

In the clear light of morning, sudden fear

Has seized upon me. What has been your past?

From out the jungle of old reckless years,

May serpents crawl across our path some day

And pierce us with their fangs? Oh, I am not

A prude or bigot; and I have not lived

A score and three full years in ignorance

Of human nature. Much I can condone;

For well I know our kinship to the earth

And all created things. Why, even I

Have felt the burden of virginity,

When flowers and birds and golden butterflies

In early spring were mating; and I know

How loud that call of sex must sound to man

Above the feeble protest of the world.

But I can hear from depths within my soul

The voices of my unborn children cry

For rightful heritage. (May God attune

The souls of men, that they may hear and heed

That plaintive voice above the call of sex;

And may the world's weak protest swell into

A thunderous diapason - a demand

For cleaner fatherhood.)

Oh, love, come near;

Look in my eyes, and say I need not fear.

Meditations - Hers by Ella Wheeler Wilcox — Stanza