Submission
By Miriam Teichner
(In “The Woman’s Journal.”)
Submission? They have preached at that so long,
As though the head bowed down would right the wrong;
As though the folded hands, the coward heart,
Were saintly signs of souls sublimely strong;
As though the man who acts the waiting part
And but submits, had little wings a-start.
But may I never reach that anguished plight,
Where I at last grow weary of the fight!
Submission? “Wrong of course, must ever be
Because it ever was. ’Tis not for me
To seek a change; to strike the maiden blow.
’Tis best to bow the head and not to see;
’Tis best to dream, that we need never know
The truth—to turn our eyes away from woe.”
Perhaps. But, ah! I pray for keener sight.
And—may I not grow weary of the fight!