Yet do I understand; for Thou hast made
Something more subtle than this heart of me;
A finer part of me
To be obeyed.
Albeit I am a sister to the earth,
This nature self is not the whole of me;
The deathless soul of me
Has nobler birth.
The primal woman hungers for the man;
My better self demands the mate of me;
The spirit fate of me,
Part of Thy plan.
Nature is instinct with the mother-need;
So is my heart; but ah, the child of me
Should, undefiled of me,
Spring from love’s seed.
And if, in barren chastity, I must
Know but in dreams that perfect choice of me,
Still will the voice of me
Proclaim God just.