Page:Trails sunward (IA trailssunward00ricerich).pdf/30

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MOTHER'S CRY TO HER KIND
"Don't ever have a child.
Your husband, down and dumb,
Will take to drink, and, out of work,
Win you a beggar's crumb.
Or beat you—till a cancer grows
Where once you had a breast,
And your days will be a bitterness,
And your nights will be unrest.

"Don't ever have a child.
Leave children to the rich,
And eat your lonely bread for strength
To rise out of the ditch.
For do not think the proud and strong
Believe you grovel there
For any reason than that worth
Has justice everywhere.

"Don't ever have a child.
Don't set God's image on

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