Julia Ward Howe

Battle Hymn of the Republic

Howe’s Final version Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fatal lightning

Coquette et Froide

What is thy thought of me? What is thy feeling? Lov’st thou the veil of sense, Or its revealing? Leav’st thou the maiden rose Drooping and blushing, Or rend’st its bosom with Kissing and

My Last Dance

The shell of objects inwardly consumed Will stand, till some convulsive wind awakes; Such sense hath Fire to waste the heart of things, Nature, such love to hold the form she makes. Thus, wasted

Mother Mind

I never made a poem, dear friend I never sat me down, and said, This cunning brain and patient hand Shall fashion something to be read. Men often came to me, and prayed I

Arise then…women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts! Whether your baptism be of water or of tears! Say firmly: “We will not have questions answered by irrelevant agencies, Our husbands will