Custom
By Sarah Sellers
(In “The Woman’s Journal.”)
I was dreaming
And I saw the children,
The babies from heaven;
The mothers of the future
Who will nurse us and rear us.
Who will teach us, and guide us;
Straight from heaven, I saw them,
Beautiful to look on;
And I heard a voice:
“Bring the chains, the chains of custom.”
The chains were golden,
And fine as a baby’s hair,
And the beautiful children
Were wound in them.
I was dreaming;
And I saw the maidens,
Strong and straight,
With the beauty of youth in their faces,
With the promise of years before them;
And I heard a voice:
“Bring the chains, the chains of custom.”
And the new chains were brought,
Beautiful and golden;
And the maidens did not know
They were chains.
I was dreaming,
And the mothers stood before me,
With their children around them;
And a voice said:
“Bring the chains, the chains of custom.”
And the mothers were bound
With chains not golden,
And the links held them
With the strength of years.
The mothers knew they were chained;
And they looked at their children.