Sleeping beside the border of the lake;
And then she planned to leave the little boat
And roll him down into a watery bed.
Little she recked of how that beauteous bed
Would claim her too, while the unhappy night
Looked down to see the drifting oarless boat,
The drifting moon-light on the piles of gold,
The drifting shadows on the level lake;
And all as vague and silent as a dream.
Soft stole she to him, noiseless as a dream,
But he rose up upon his glittering bed,
And sat there like a lily on a lake,
And asked her if she’d like to spend the night
In sitting there by him to count his gold
Better than floating broadcast in a boat.
She answered him that she preferred the boat,
And begged him not to interrupt her dream,
Stating that she had only thought of gold
When tossing wearily upon her bed,
In indigestive watches of the night,
There in her lonely bower beside the lake.
But he maintained she ought to like the lake,
And softly beckoned her into the boat,
And drowned her in the middle of the night,
And then returned to dimly drowse and dream
There on the margin in his shining bed,
All lit and glimmering with plenteous gold.
Envoy
Sweet is much gold and sweet a lovely lake,
Better a lady in her bed than boat,
And the best dreams are those that fly by night.
THE MELANCHOLY RABBIT
A melancholy rabbit, in distress,
We heard complaining on the moonlit mead,
And neither we nor anyone could guess
If he were ill at ease, or ill indeed.
We heard complaining on the moonlit mead,
We sought the lonely wanderer to relieve;
If he were ill at ease or ill indeed,
We did not ask — sufficient he should grieve.
We sought the lonely wanderer to relieve
With sundry bundles of electric hay;
We did not ask — sufficient he should grieve —
If he were used to dieting that way.
With sundry bundles of electric hay
The suffering hare was speedily supplied;
If he were used to dieting that way
It could be the reason that he died.
The suffering hare was speedily supplied —
A melancholy rabbit in distress;
It could not be the reason that he died —
And neither we nor anyone could guess.
A USE OF MEMORY
Why should I think of dragging clouds,
Of dreary, dragging clouds of grey,
When I have seen them floating light,
Snow-mountains blazing soft and bright,
Or filmy feathers faint and white,
On many a bygone day?
Why should I think of sighing winds,
Of sighing winds that shake the rain,
When I’ve felt breezes fresh and clear
That sing forever past my ear,
And breaths of summer drifting near
O’er clover-fields and grain?
Why should I think of days like this,
Of days like this, all dark and wet,
When I’ve known days so grandly bright,
So full of freedom and delight,
That, though all after life were night,
I never can forget?
MOTION
We all like motion. Why not grow to feel
Smooth-rolling Time beneath us, and enjoy
The steady, quiet, ceaseless flow of years;
The whirr of flying seconds; the swift beat
Of minutes as they pass; the beaded days,
Thick-starred with Sundays regular and swift;
The moon-set months, fast wheeling up the sky;
The seasons opening and closing calm,
Year after year in long processional;
Even to feel the heaving centuries
Wheel on beneath us, slow, but moving still?
CLOSED DOORS
When it is night and the house is still,
When it is day and guests are gone,
When the lights and colors and sounds that fill
Leave the house empty and you alone:
Then you hear them stir — you hear them shift —
You hear them through the walls and floors —
And the door-knobs turn and the latches lift
On the closet doors.
Then you try to read and you try to think,
And you try to work — but the hour is late;
No play nor labor nor meat nor drink
Will make them wait.
Well for you if the locks are good!
Well for you if the bolts are strong,
And the panels heavy with oaken wood,
And the chamber long.
Even so you can hear them plead —
Hear them argue — hear them moan —
When the house is very still indeed,
And you are alone.
Blessed then is a step outside,
Warm hands to hold you, eyes that smile,
The stir and noise of a world that’s wide,
To silence yours for a little while.
Fill your life with work and play!
Fill you heart with joy and pain!
Hold your friends while they will stay,
Silent so shall these remain.
But you can hear them when you hark —
Things you wish you had not known —
When the house is very still and dark,
And you are alone.
[THE GREEN SLOPES CREAM WITH ‘INNOCENTS’ SNOW]
The green slopes cream with ‘innocents’ snow,
The woods are warm with Spring,
Mile after mile
White fear-blooms smile;
And then,
Again,
As the train whirls swift
‘Round the hills’ green lift —
Pink peach-trees suddenly sing!
CALIFORNIA COLORS
A SONG.
I came from Santa Barbara,
I went to San Jose,
Blue sky above — blue sea beside,
Wild gold along the way —
The lovely lavish blossom gold
Ran wild along the way.
The purple mountains loomed beyond,
The soft hills rolled between,
From crest to crest, like smoke at rest,
The eucalyptus screen
Its careless foliage drifting by
Against that all-enfolding sky
In dusky glimmering green;
With live-oak masses drowsing dark
On the slopes of April green;
More joy than any eye can hold,
Not only blue, not only gold,
But bronze and olive green.
UP AND DOWN
Up, up, up! On and out and away
From the little beast I live in,
From the sweet home life I give in,
With its dear, close love;
Out of that fragrant gloom,
With its crowding fruit and bloom,
Into the wide, clear day —
Into the world above.
Out where the soul can spread
Into the lives of many —
Feeling the joy and pain,
The peace, the toil, the strain
That is not spared to any;
Feeling and working as one;
So is our life begun —
The life that can never grow
Till it has widened so.
The neighborless soul is dead.
Or — with a sharp-caught breath,
Int
o a space beyond —
Wonderful white-blue space,
Where you feel through shifting time
The slow-formed life sublime
Of a yet unconscious race;
Where you live beyond all tears,
Where centuries slide as years,
And the flickering screen of death
Shows God’s face, calm and fond.
Even — a moment’s dream —
A flash that lifts and flies —
Even beyond our brothers,
To a day when the full-born soul,
World-circling, conscious, whole,
Shall taste the world’s full worth —
Shall feel the swing of the earth,
Feel what life will seem
When we walk the thronging skies,
And the earth shall sing with the others.
Down, down, down! Back and in and home!
Circling softly through
The spaces vast and blue;
The centuries’ whirling spokes
Setting back again
To time-marks clear and plain.
As we count the separate strokes,
The race life-long and free
Narrowed to what we see,
Our own set hope and power
In the history of the hour —
Back to our time we come.
In, where the soul is warm
With the clinging, lingering touch
Of those we love so much,
And the daring wings can rest;
Back where the task is small,
Easy and plain to all,
The life that most hold best —
Humanity’s first form.
Down! If we fail of this;
Down to the very base —
The Universe, the Race,
Country and Friends and Home —
Here at the end we come
To the first gift that was given,
The little beast we live in!
Rest and be happy, soul!
This was an age-long goal —
This, too, you may nobly love —
Failing of aught above;
Feeling that even here,
Life is as true, as near,
As one with the will of God,
As sky or sea, or sod —
Or aught of the world that is.
The Poems
Gilman lived in New York City from 1900-1922
Gilman was influenced by her great aunt, Catharine Beecher (1800-1878)
The famous novelist Harriet Beecher Stowe (1811-1896) was also Gilman’s great- aunt
LIST OF POEMS IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER
THE WORLD.
BIRTH.
IN THIS OUR WORLD.
NATURE’S ANSWER.
THE COMMONPLACE.
HOMES. A SESTINA.
A COMMON INFERENCE.
THE ROCK AND THE SEA.
THE SEA.
THE LION PATH.
REINFORCEMENTS.
HEROISM.
FIRE WITH FERE.
A TYPE.
COMPROMISE.
PART OF THE BATTLE.
STEP FASTER, PLEASE.
A NEW YEAR’S REMINDER.
OUT OF PLACE.
LITTLE CELL.
THE CHILD SPEAKS.
TO A GOOD MANY.
HOW WOULD YOU?
A MAN MUST LIVE.
IN DUTY BOUND.
DESIRE.
WHY NOT?
OUT OF THE GATE.
THE MODERN SKELETON.
THE LESSON OF DEATH.
FOR US.
THANKSGIVING.
CHRISTMAS HYMN.
CHRISTMAS.
THE LIVING GOD.
A PRAYER.
GIVE WAY!
THANKSGIVING HYMN.
CHRISTMAS CAROL.
NEW DUTY.
SEEKING.
THE CUP.
WHAT THEN?
OUR LONELINESS.
THE KEEPER OF THE LIGHT.
IMMORTALITY.
WASTE.
WINGS.
THE HEART OF THE WATER.
THE SHIP.
AMONG THE GODS.
SONGS.
HEAVEN.
BALLAD OF THE SUMMER SUN.
PIONEERS.
EXILES.
A NEVADA DESERT.
THE BEDS OF FLEUR-DE-LYS.
IT IS GOOD TO BE ALIVE.
THE CHANGELESS YEAR.
WHERE MEMORY SLEEPS.
CALIFORNIA OAR WINDOWS.
LIMITS.
POWELL STREET.
FROM RUSSIAN HILL.
AN UNUSUAL RAIN.
THE HILLS.
CITY’S BEAUTY.
TWO SKIES.
WINDS AND LEAVES.
ON THE PAWTUXET.
A MOONRISE.
THEIR GRASS!
THE PROPHETS.
SIMILAR CASES.
A CONSERVATIVE.
AN OBSTACLE.
THE FOX WHO HAD LOST HIS TAIL.
THE SWEET USES OF ADVERSITY.
CONNOISSEURS.
TECHNIQUE.
THE PASTELLETTE.
THE PIG AND THE PEARL.
POOR HUMAN NATURE.
OUR SAN FRANCISCO CLIMATE.
CRITICISM.
ANOTHER CREED.
THE LITTLE LION.
A MISFIT.
ON NEW YEAR’S DAY.
OUR EAST.
UNMENTIONABLE.
AN INVITATION FROM CALIFORNIA.
RESOLVE.
WOMAN.
SHE WALKETH VEILED AND SLEEPING.
TO MAN.
WOMEN OF TO-DAY.
TO THE YOUNG WIFE.
FALSE PLAY.
MOTHERHOOD.
SIX HOURS A DAY.
AN OLD PROVERB.
REASSURANCE.
MOTHER TO CHILD.
SERVICES.
IN MOTHER-TIME.
SHE WHO IS TO COME.
GIRLS OF TO-DAY.
WE, AS WOMEN.
IF MOTHER KNEW.
THE ANTI-SUFFRAGISTS.
WOMEN DO NOT WANT IT.
WEDDED BLISS.
THE HOLY STOVE.
THE MOTHER’S CHARGE.
A BROOD MARE.
FEMININE VANITY.
THE MODEST MAID.
UNSEXED.
FEMALES.
A MOTHER’S SOLILOQUY.
THEY WANDERED FORTH.
BABY LOVE.
THE MARCH.
THE WOLF AT THE DOOR.
THE LOST GAME.
THE LOOKER-ON.
THE OLD-TIME WAIL.
FREE LAND IS NOT ENOUGH.
WHO IS TO BLAME?
IF A MAN MAY NOT EAT NEITHER CAN HE WORK.
HIS OWN LABOR.
AS FLEW THE CROSS.
TO LABOR.
HARDLY A PLEASURE.
NATIONALISM.
THE KING IS DEAD! LONG LIVE THE KING!
HOW MANY POOR!
THE DEAD LEVEL.
THE CART BEFORE THE HORSE.
THE AMŒBOID CELL.
THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST.
DIVISION OF PROPERTY.
CHRISTIAN VIRTUES.
WHAT’S THAT?
AN ECONOMIST.
CHARITY.
SHE WALKETH VEILED AND SLEEPING
COMING
LOCKED INSIDE
NOW
WOMEN OF TO-DAY
BOYS WIFE BE BOYS
FOR FEAR
MOTHER TO CHILD
A QUESTION
THE HOUSEWIFE
WEDDED BLISS
FEMALES
WE AS WOMEN
GIRLS OF TO-DAY
WOMEN TO MEN
REASSURANCE
THE SOCIALIST AND THE
THE MALINGERER
THE ANTI-SUFFRAGISTS
THE “ANTI” AND THE FEY
TO THE INDIFFERENT WOMEN
SONG FOR EQUAL SUFFRAGE
SHE WHO IS TO COME
FULL MOTHERHOOD
TO MOTHERS
WE EAT AT HOME
SPECIAL DRY TOAST
CHILD LABOR
EN BANC
A PSALM OF LIVES
I WOULD FAIN DIE A DRY DEATH
A DIET UNDESIRED
WHY? TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
THE INTERNATIONALIST
AN ARMY WITH BANNERS
THE GUNMAN
HIGH SOVEREIGNTY
THIS IS A LADY’S HAT
MRS. NOAH
THE CRIPPLE
A PROTEST
PIKERS
WOMEN OF 1920
MORE FEMALES OF THE SPECIES
THE SPEAKER’S SIN
THE LOVE OF HUMAN KIND
ANOTHER CREED
THE FOOL KILLER
KITCHEN WOMEN
THE HOUSEWIFE
THE PROPOSAL
ODE TO THE COOK
THE ETERNAL MOTHER TO THE BACHELOR MAID
TWO CALLINGS
LIMITING LIFE
A VANDAL
THE RABBIT, THE RHINOCEROS AND I
THE OYSTER AND THE STARFISH
THE WEEPING NAUTILUS
THE DAILY SQUID
SOME NORDICS
WHY NATURE LAUGHS
TWIGS
THE FRONT WAVE
QUEER PEOPLE
THE EARTH, THE WORLD, AND I
THE FLAG OF PEACE
SONG FOR THE WORLD’S FLAG
THE KINGDOM
HAPPINESS
THE REAL RELIGION
A CENTRAL SUN
BEGIN NOW
HAPPY DAY
NOBLESSE OBLIGE
WHERE WOMEN MEET
TO THE INDIFFERENT WOMAN
ONE GIRL OF MANY
THE DEPARTING HOUSEMAID
THE PAST PARENT & THE COMING CHILD
MATRIATISM
THE SOURCE
I AM HUMAN
THE COMING DAY
THIS IS THE YEAR
THOUGHTS AND FACTS
THE HUMAN LAW
THE PURPOSE
THE PRIMAL POWER
TWO PRAYERS
WHATEVER IS
WINGS
WORSHIP
THE ARTIST
MY VIEW, 1881.
LITTLE LEAFY BROTHERS
IN ALABAMA WOODS
OUT OF DOORS
THE SANDS
THE BAD LITTLE COO-BIRD
A WALK, WALK, WALK
AUNT ELIZA
A DREAM OF GOLD
THE MELANCHOLY RABBIT
A USE OF MEMORY
MOTION
CLOSED DOORS
CALIFORNIA COLORS
UP AND DOWN
LIST OF POEMS IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER
A-D E-H I-L M-O P-S T-V W-Z
A BROOD MARE.
A CENTRAL SUN
A COMMON INFERENCE.
A CONSERVATIVE.
A DIET UNDESIRED
A DREAM OF GOLD
A MAN MUST LIVE.
Complete Works of Charlotte Perkins Gilman Page 192
