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Show BAD By Angela Morgan. I. Bad, hopelessly bad! I yielded to love, that swings mankind; Not the mere measure Of bodily pleasure, . But love, that wakes in the soul and mind, Born of the spirit at God's behest. And I, who bartered all that I had, I, with the warmth of a child on my breast, Am bad, hopelessly bad! Yet the Power that molded my little son Is the same that moved for the wedded one: Creation's throes were just the same Had he borne a father's name. Did Love, that fashioned the universe, Fashion alike my curse? II. Listen, you who are pure and good, White and strong in your motherhood: You with your wedding-ring safe on your finger: You who can linger, Righteous and clean, in love's embrace: Tell me the reason that I am base! Are we so different, after all? I answered the same high, golden call; I yielded to love that is proud of pain, Love, that reckoneth not for gain, And Nature has made my child as fair As the babe on your shoulder there. The same great impulse, deep and glad, That hurls the suns and drives the earth Brought both our babes to birth. Yet you are good, and I am bad; Vicious and evil and low, they say, A girl who has "gone astray." M Yet the milk in my bosom is warm and white M That runs to his hungry mouth at night; M My words are soft, my arms are sweet, H My hands are kind to his little feet H Can I, who live for my baby's smile H Be yile, hopelessly vile? , M I O, great, broad, beautiful Judgment Day, H When the dogmas of men are rent asunder H And superstition is wiped away, H Will you plead for me, wil you greatly speak H For us, who are voiceless and weak? H Plead for us, who must ever wonder H Why 'we are hounded and held at bay, H We, who can love; we, who can pray; H We, the mothers who might be glad But are broken and bitter and sad. I 0, Future Day, will you write in flame , H The Reason for sin and the Reason for shame: B Wrfc i H That in all the city there seemed no room, H No pure, sweet place for my heart to bloom! H O, will you terribly tell the Truth: H That the world which offers no worthy place H For the light that shines in my baby's face H Offered no shelter for love and "youth, H , No guarding presence who understood H My blossoming womanhood? H jfctfll So I sought his arms as a bird its nest, H And I, with the warmth of a child on my breast, H 1, who bartered all that I had, H Am bad, hopelessly bad! H From Hearst's. |