Maternity

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Maternity

Proud?

Perhaps⁠—and yet

I cannot say with surety

That I am happy thus to be

Responsible for this young life’s embarking.

Is he not thrall to prevalent conditions?

Does not the day loom dark apace

To weave its cordon of disgrace

Around his lifted throat?

Is not this mezzotint enough and surfeit

For such prescience?

Ah, did I dare

Recall the pulsing life I gave,

And fold him in the kindly grave!

Proud?

Perhaps⁠—could I but ever so faintly scan

The broad horizon of a man

Swept fair for his dominion⁠—

So hesitant and half-afraid

I view this babe of sorrow!