<h2><SPAN name="page113"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"></span>LORD, SPEAK AGAIN</h2>
<p class="poetry">When God had formed the Universe, He thought<br/>
Of all the marvels therein to be wrought<br/>
And to His aid then Motherhood was brought.</p>
<p class="poetry">‘My lesser self, the feminine of Me,<br/>
She will go forth throughout all time,’ quoth He,<br/>
‘And make My world what I would have it be.</p>
<p class="poetry">‘For I am weary, having laboured so,<br/>
And for a cycle of repose would go<br/>
Into that silence which but God may know.</p>
<p class="poetry">‘Therefore I leave the rounding of My
plan<br/>
To Motherhood; and that which I began<br/>
Let woman finish in perfecting man.</p>
<p class="poetry">‘She is the soil: the human Mother
Earth:<br/>
She is the sun, that calls the seed to earth.<br/>
She is the gardener, who knows its worth.</p>
<p class="poetry"><SPAN name="page114"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
114</span>‘From Me, all seed, of any kind must spring.<br/>
Divine the growth such seed and soil will bring.<br/>
For all is Me, and I am everything.’</p>
<p class="poetry">Thus having spoken to Himself aloud,<br/>
His glorious face upon His breast He bowed,<br/>
And sought repose behind a wall of cloud.</p>
<p class="poetry">Come forth, O God! though great Thy thought and
good,<br/>
In shaping woman for true Motherhood,<br/>
Lord, speak again; she has not understood.</p>
<p class="poetry">The centuries pass: the cycles roll
along—<br/>
The earth is peopled with a mighty throng,<br/>
Yet men are fighting and the world goes wrong.</p>
<p class="poetry">Lord, speak again, ere yet it be too late,<br/>
Unloved, unwanted souls come through earth’s gate:<br/>
The unborn child is given a dower of hate.</p>
<p class="poetry">Thy world progresses in all ways save one.<br/>
In Motherhood, for which it was begun,<br/>
Lord, Lord, behold how little has been done!</p>
<p class="poetry">Children are spawned like fishes in the
sand.<br/>
With ignorance and crime they fill the land.<br/>
Lord, speak again, till mothers understand.</p>
<p class="poetry"><SPAN name="page115"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
115</span>It is not all of Motherhood to know<br/>
Conception pleasure or deliverance woe.<br/>
Who plants the seed should help the shoot to grow.</p>
<p class="poetry">Better a barren soil than weed and tare,<br/>
Or sickly plants that die for want of care<br/>
In poisonous jungles, void of sun and air.</p>
<p class="poetry">True Motherhood is not alone to breed<br/>
The human race; it is to know and heed<br/>
Its holiest purpose and its highest need.</p>
<p class="poetry">Lord, speak again, so woman shall be stirred<br/>
With the full meaning of that mighty word<br/>
True Motherhood. She has not rightly heard.</p>
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