Ambitious dreams of youthful worldliness Are dead long since, by tiny hands brought low. To keep the home, to see the children grow, To clothe and nourish little minds not less Than little bodies; these the tasks that bless The routine of my days: and well I know No greater gifts than these could I bestow Nor ask a truer measure of success. God must have righteous men upon His earth; For still He weaves its age-old destiny, And still His threads are hearts of inner worth. O patient, tender, happy may I be In woman's mighty stewardship of birth— The simple, obvious service due from me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JACOB GODBEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DANSE RUSSE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS CIRCUS AT NIGHT by MADELEINE AARON THE OLD BUFFALO TRAIL by ISABEL ANDERSON WHERE YOUR FEET GO by JOSEPH AUSLANDER |