(Hartford: Edwin Valentine Mitchell, 1929)
She had a way
Of sweeping up a room
Then for a minute
Hanging on the broom.
Plumb in the middle—
There she would stand
Holding a broom
And the world in her hand.
OH, let me run with autumn winds
That pass through reeds and rushes
Let me shriek with evening gales
In ragged currant bushes.
Let me tear through aspen trees,
Roar on naked beaches,
Let me howl through bending oaks
In haunted woodland reaches.
I tell you, this, the grief I hold
Is no considerate sorrow;
This is the King of Pain who must
A fitting garment borrow. Continue reading from Herb Woman and Other Poems
Full text available from Internet Archive in book reader format: Continue reading The Last of the Beechers: Memories on my Eighty-Third Birthday
Mr. Smith:
Did you read this Editorial in the Independent, on women’s voting? Continue reading Shall Women Vote?
by Isabella Beecher Hooker
In the month of August, 1774, that eminent statesman and true patriot, Thomas, Jefferson, in a little tract entitled “A Summary View of the Rights of British America,” used certain words which I will take for my text while addressing you to-day on the “Constitutional Rights of the Women Citizens of the United States.” They are these: Continue reading The Constitutional Rights Of The Women Of The United States