Woman's Voice: An Anthology

Capa
Josephine Conger Kaneko
Stratford Company, 1918 - 294 páginas
Book I. The woman movement -- Book II. The home -- Book III. The child -- Book IV. The mother -- Book V. Love and marriage -- Book VI. Woman and labor -- Book VII. Education -- Book VIII. War and peace -- Book IX. Classes -- Book X. Miscellaneous.

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Página 106 - And underneath our heavy eyelids, drooping, The reddest flower would look as pale as snow. For all day we drag our burden, tiring, Through the coal-dark underground ; Or all day we drive the wheels of iron In the factories, round and round.
Página 106 - Turns the long light that drops adown the wall, Turn the black flies that crawl along the ceiling, All are turning, all the day, and we with all. And all day the iron wheels are droning, And sometimes we could pray, 'O ye wheels' (breaking out in a mad moaning) 'Stop!
Página 32 - And, by the way, in the new code of laws which I suppose it will be necessary for you to make, I desire you would remember the ladies and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors.
Página 111 - BACKWARD, turn backward, O Time, in your flight, Make me a child again just for to-night ! Mother, come back from the echoless shore, Take me again to your heart as of yore ; Kiss from my forhead the furrows of care, Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair ; Over my slumbers your loving watch keep ; — Rock me to sleep, mother — rock me to sleep ! Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!
Página 257 - And Pharaoh said unto him, Get thee from me, take heed to thyself, see my face no more; for in that day thou seest my face thou shalt die. And Moses said, Thou hast spoken well, I will see thy face again no more.
Página 105 - DO ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years ? They are leaning their young heads against their mothers, And that cannot stop their tears. The young lambs are bleating in the meadows, The young birds are chirping in the nest, The young fawns are playing with the shadows, The young flowers are blowing toward the west : But the young, young children, O my brothers, They are weeping bitterly ! They are weeping in the playtime of the others, In the country of the free.
Página 255 - And he looked this way and that way, and when he saw that there was no man, he slew the Egyptian, and hid him in the sand.
Página 112 - Over my heart in the days that are flown, No love like mother-love ever has shone; No other worship abides and endures — Faithful, unselfish, and patient, like yours; None like a mother can charm away pain From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.
Página 32 - ... in the new code of laws which I suppose it will be necessary for you to make I desire you would remember the ladies, and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the husbands. Remember all men would be tyrants if they could.
Página 107 - How long," they say, " how long, O cruel nation, Will you stand, to move the world on a child's heart, — Stifle down with a mailed heel its palpitation, And tread onward to your throne amid the mart ? Our blood splashes upward, O goldheaper, And your purple shows your path ! But the child's sob in the silence curses deeper Than the strong man in his wrath.

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