SUFFRAGE SONGS, IN THIS OUR WORLD & OTHER VERSES. Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Are learning Law and Life and Love at last.

      The age-old secret of the sphinx's holding,

       Incarnate triumph, infinitely strong;

       The mother's majesty, grown wide and long,

       In the full power and fire of life's unfolding;

       The conscious splendor and ripe joy thereof—

       Glad world-wide, life-long service—this is Love!

      Steps

       Table of Contents

      I was a slave, because I could not see

       That work for one another is our law;

       I hated law. I work? I would be free!

       Therefore the heavy law laid hands on me

       And I was forced to work in slavery—

       Until I saw.

      I was a hireling, for I could not see

       That work was natural as the breath I drew,

       Natural? I would not work without the fee!

       So nature laid her heavy hands on me

       And I was forced by fear of poverty—

       Until I knew.

      Now I am free. Life is new-seen, recast

       To work is to enjoy, to love, to live!

       The shame and pain of slavery are past,

       Dishonor and extortion follow fast,

       I am not owned, nor hired, full-born at last,

       My power I give.

      Child Labor

       Table of Contents

      The children in the Poor House

       May die of many an ill,

       But the Poor House does not profit

       By their labor in the mill!

      The children in the Orphanage

       Wear raiment far from fine,

       But no Orphanage is financed

       By child labor in a mine.

      The Cruel Law may send them

       To Reform School's iron sway,

       But it does not set small children

       To hard labor by the day.

      Only the Loving Family,

       Which we so much admire,

       Is willing to support itself

       On little children's hire.

      Only the Human Father,

       A man, with power to think,

       Will take from little children

       The price of food and drink.

      Only the Human Mother—

       Degraded, helpless thing!

       Will make her little children work

       And live on what they bring!

      No fledgling feeds the father-bird!

       No chicken feeds the hen!

       No kitten mouses for the cat—

       This glory is for men.

      We are the Wisest, Strongest Race—

       Loud my our praise be sung!—

       The only animal alive

       That lives upon its young!

      We make the poverty that takes

       The lives of babies so.

       We can awake! rebuild! remake!—

       And let our children grow!

      His Crutches

       Table of Contents

      Why should the Stronger Sex require,

       To hold him to his tasks,

       Two medicines of varied fire?

       The Weaker Vessel asks.

      Hobbling between the rosy cup

       And dry narcotic brown,—

       One daily drug to stir him up

       And one to soothe him down.

      Get Your Work Done

       Table of Contents

      Get your work DONE, to remember,—

       Nothing can take it away,

       Then shall the sun of December

       Shine brighter than goldenest May.

      What is the Spring-time of flowers for?

       Why does the sunshine come down?

       What are the harvest-day hours for

       But fruit? In the fruit is the crown.

      Why should we grieve over losses?

       Why should we fret over sin?

       Death is the smallest of crosses

       To the worker whose harvest is in.