Friday, January 30, 2009

The Burden


Womanhood

She must be honest, both in thought and deed,
Of generous impulse, and above all greed;
Not seeking praise, or place, or power, or pelf,
But life’s best blessings for her higher self,
Which means the best for all.
She must have faith,
To make good friends of Trouble, Pain, and Death,
And understand their message.
She should be
As redolent with tender sympathy
As a rose is with fragrance.
Cheerfulness
Should be her mantle, even though her dress
May be of Sorrow’s weaving.
On her face
A loyal nature leaves its seal of grace,
And chastity is in her atmosphere.
Not that chill chastity which seems austere
(Like untrod snow-peaks, lovely to behold
Till once attained – then barren, loveless, cold):
But the white flame that feeds upon the soul
And lights the pathway to a peaceful goal.
A sense of humour, and a touch of mirth,
To brighten up the shadowy spots of earth;
And pride that passes evil – choosing good.
All these unite in perfect womanhood.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

14 comments:

jaime said...

absolutely LOVE this post :)

Cecile/DreamCreateRepeat said...

Great pairing of post and picture!

Thanks, also, for introducing a new word to my vocabulary....I had to go check out "pelf."

Jeanne said...

I love everything you share

willow said...

I love this poem and Wilcox, too! And your new bloggy look is just plain "wow". So you!!

From This Moment to That said...

I haven't read many of the Wilcox poetry so you have re-introduced me to someone I'd forgotten.
I really love the photograph of the smiley baby on your blog, I have to visit often just to smile back at his/her lovely jubbly smiley face!! :)))

P said...

What a beautiful blog you have! Your banner is particularly scrumptious. Thank you so much for stopping by my blog and leaving such a nice comment. xo, P.

The Wanderers' Daughter said...

Wonderful post - and, as always, I love the image you chose.

Vivian M said...

My poem reads slightly different:
She must cook and clean and care for her family and put their needs above her own.
She must chauffer them around and do the grocery shopping, and never whine or moan.
And no matter how tired she is at the end of the day, to her husband his misstress she still shall be.
Unless of course she can go to sleep first, or pretend she's sleeping when he comes in to see.
Oh wait - this poem is called "Wifehood"...which is what happens when man falls in love with womanhood and womanhood marries said man and has children. Sigh.

FishermansDaughter said...

The red in that photo is absolutely LUSH. Wow.

Yoli said...

LMAO!!! Oh Viv! Why do you think I named the post, the Burden. It is amazing how much a woman has and still does, put aside for the comfort and well being of others.

paris parfait said...

Wonderful combination of image and poem, Yoli!

Vivian M said...

Yoli stop by my blog for a little surprise.

Maithri said...

Glorious, simply glorious,

Much love my friend,

M

tracy said...

i must remember to send this poem in the mother's day cards i send out this year. what a great read. thanks yoli.