Charlotte Perkins Gilman

The Home Charlotte Perkins Gilman

I hear a deep voice through uneasy dreaming, A deep, soft, tender, soul-beguiling voice; A lulling voice that bids the dreams remain, That calms my restlessness and dulls my pain, That thrills and fills and holds me till in seeming There is no other sound on earth-no choice. "Home!" says the deep voice, "Home!" and softly singing Brings me a sense of safety unsurpassed; So old! so old! The piles above the wave- The shelter of the stone-blocked, shadowy cave- Security of sun-kissed treetops swinging- Safety and Home at last! "Home" says the sweet voice, and warm Comfort rises, Holding my soul with velvet-fingered hands; Comfort of leafy lair and lapping fur, Soft couches, cushions, curtains, and the stir Of easy pleasures that the body prizes, Of soft, swift feet to serve the least commands. I shrink-half rise-and then it murmurs "Duty!" Again the past rolls out-a scroll unfurled; Allegiance and long labor due my lord- Allegiance in an idleness abhorred- I am the squaw-the slave-the harem beauty- I serve and serve, the handmaid of the world.