Julia Ward Howe
Julia Ward Howe Poems
. Howe's Final version
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fatal lightning of his terrible swift sword:
...
The shell of objects inwardly consumed
Will stand, till some convulsive wind awakes;
Such sense hath Fire to waste the heart of things,
Nature, such love to hold the form she makes.
...
I never made a poem, dear friend-
I never sat me down, and said,
This cunning brain and patient hand
Shall fashion something to be read.
...
Arise then...women of this day!
Arise, all women who have hearts!
Whether your baptism be of water or of tears!
Say firmly:
...
What is thy thought of me?
What is thy feeling?
Lov'st thou the veil of sense,
Or its revealing?
...
Do not tie my wings,
Says the honey-bee;
Do not bind my wings,
Leave them glad and free.
...
A gallant foeman in the fight,
A brother when the fight was o'er,
The hand that led the host with might
The blessed torch of learning bore.
...
'The beggar boy is none of mine,'
The reverend doctor strangely said;
'I do not walk the streets to pour
Chance benedictions on his head.
...
There's a flag hangs over my threshold, whose folds are more dear to me
Than the blood that thrills in my bosom its earnest of liberty;
...
WEAVE no more silks, ye Lyons looms,
To deck our girls for gay delights!
The crimson flower of battle blooms,
...
Take the dead Christ to my chamber,
The Christ I brought from Rome;
Over all the tossing ocean,
He has reached his western home;
...
Thou metamorphic god!
Who mak'st the straight Olympus thy abode,
Hermes to subtle laughter moving,
Apollo with serener loving,
...
Julia Ward Howe Biography
As a writer, poet, reformer and lecturer, Howe worked throughout her life for justice. In 1861, she authored The Battle Hymn as an inspiration to Union soldiers fighting against slavery. Howe's work is now the national anthem for freedom. Of even greater importance to her, she founded, with Lucy Stone and others, the New England Women's Club, which later became the American Woman Suffrage Association. Throughout the late 19th and early 20th century, Howe lectured and wrote on women's rights. She fought not only for the right to vote, but also struggled to liberate women from the confinement of the traditional "womanís place" in stifling marriages like her own, where none of her ideas were valued or accepted. She also worked for world peace, founding, in 1891, the American Friends of Russian Freedom, and serving as president, in 1894, of the United Friends of Armenia. In 1907, Howe became the first woman elected to the American Academy of Arts and Letters. She has also received three honorary doctorates of letters degrees. The citation for her LL.D. degree from Smith College best explains her importance: "Poet and patriot, lover of letters and learning; advocate for over half a century in print and living speech of great causes of human liberty; [and] sincere friend of all that makes for the elevation and enrichment of women.")
The Best Poem Of Julia Ward Howe
Battle Hymn Of The Republic
. Howe's Final version
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fatal lightning of his terrible swift sword:
His Truth is marching on.
I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps.
His Day is marching on.
I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel:
'As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on.'
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment-seat:
Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me:
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.
2. Howe's First Manuscript Version
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.
He is trampling out the wine press, where the grapes of wrath are stored,
He hath loosed the fateful lightnings of his terrible swift sword,
His truth is marching on.
I have seen him in the watchfires of an hundred circling camps
They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps,
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps,
His day is marching on.
I have read a burning Gospel writ in fiery rows of steel,
As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal
Let the hero born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Our God is marching on.
He has sounded out the trumpet that shall never call retreat,
He has waked the earth's dull sorrow with a high ecstatic beat,
Oh! be swift my soul to answer him, be jubilant my feet
Our God is marching on.
In the whiteness of the lilies he was born across the sea
With a glory in his bosom that shines out on you and me,
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
Our God is marching on.
He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave
He is wisdom to the mighty, he is sucour to the brave
So the world shall be his footstool, and the soul of Time his slave
Our God is marching on.
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