| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Mother | | By Nancy Campbell |
| | I NOW I am like the earth— | |
| I can give food; | |
| And you, my little one, look to me only. | |
| We are so little separate, you and I— | |
| Still your growth comes of me, | 5 |
| And my strength makes you strong. | |
| Now I am like the earth— | |
| I can give birth to flowers, and nourish them. | |
| |
II Happy the house | |
| That goes a-tiptoe when the evening comes, | 10 |
| And says, “Hush, hush— | |
| He sleeps!” | |
| Happy the house that may not lie too long | |
| Of mornings; | |
| Little cries of hunger or of laughter | 15 |
| Wakening it, | |
| Imperious fingers pushing up its eyes. | |
| That house is living, | |
| There is moving in it | |
| The green sap of the world. | 20 | | | |
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