"Home" says the sweet voice, and warm Comfort rises, Holding my soul with velvet-fingered hands; Comfort of leafy lair and lapping fur, Soft couches, cushions, curtains, and the stirOf easy pleasures that the body prizes, Of soft, swift feet to serve the least commands. I shrink-half rise-and then it murmurs "Duty!"Again the past rolls out-a scroll unfurled; Allegiance and long labor due my lordAllegiance in an idleness abhorred-I am the squaw-the slave-the harem beauty-I serve and serve, the handmaid of the world. My soul rebels-but hark! a new note thrilling, Deep, deep, past finding-I protest no more; The voice says "Love!" and all those ages dimStand glorified and justified in him; I bow-I kneel-the woman soul is willing-"Love is the law. Be still! Obey! Adore!"And then-ah, then! The deep voice murmurs "Mother!"And all life answers from the primal sea; A mingling of all lullabies; a peaceThat asks no understanding; the releaseOf nature's holiest power-who seeks another? Home? Home is Mother-Mother, Home-to me."Home!" says the deep voice; "Home and Easy Pleasure! Safety and Comfort, Laws of Life well kept!
