Meditations - Hers

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.