| Poems by Women |
In Spite of War
In spite of war, in spite of death,
In spite of all
man's sufferings,
Something within me laughs and sings
And I must praise
with all my breath.
In spite of war, in spite of hate
Lilacs are blooming
at my gate,
Tulips are tripping down the path
In spite of war, in spite of
wrath.
"Courage!" the morning-glory saith;
"Rejoice!" the daisy
murmureth,
And just to live is so divine
When pansies lift their eyes to
mine.
The clouds are romping with the sea,
And flashing waves call back to
me
That naught is real but what is fair,
That everywhere and
everywhere
A glory liveth through despair.
Though guns may roar and cannon
boom,
Roses are born and gardens bloom;
My spirit still may light its
flame
At that same torch whence poppies came.
Where morning's altar
whitely burns
Lilies may lift their silver urns
In spite of war, in spite
of shame.
And in my ear a whispering breath,
"Wake from the nightmare! Look
and see
That life is naught but ecstasy
In spite of war, in spite of
death!"
From: Rittenhouse, Jessie B.
The Second Book of Modern Verse (1919).
This poet:
[Author index]
This collection assembled by Jone Johnson Lewis.
Collection © 1999-2002 Jone Johnson Lewis.
Citing poems from these pages:
| Author. "Poem Title." Women's History: Poems by Women. Jone Johnson Lewis, editor. URL: (date of logon) |
