Poem by Charlotte Perkins Gilman (Stetson)

A Question

Why is it, God, that mother's hearts are made
So very deep and wide?
How does it help the world that we should hold
Such swelling floods of pain till we are old,
Because when we were young one grave was laid–
One baby died?

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Christopher Cranch A Question ("AH, who can tell which guide were best")

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