Life's Struggle Poem by Della Hodgson James

I will tell you about my will, and my conscience
That used to be always at war,
I was always so fanciful, so weird and emotional
That all the resolutions I'd made, would war.
I virtually grew up, among the birds and flowers,
Of work, then I knew not ought,
But my mind was absorbing all natures lore
That for money could not have been bought.

Thoughts of those days gone by
How they crowd my memory still,
So beautiful and unfathomable, I couldn't comprehend
Yet, they would rule my mind at will.

Then when toil was so necessary to me
I would scoff at my fanciful self,
And try by my work, all the harder then
To drive away the taunting elf.

Give an eye, give an ear, the beauties of life would say
Record a thought in your memory, take heed,
For today we are here, but tomorrow are gone,
But the records your children may read.

I was stubborn, and would not yield at first
And thought of the reality with dread,
For I knew not the why, or the wherefore then
Of all this foolishness, that danced through my head.

It would come upon me in over-powering waves
And take possession at will,
Like a whispering, urgent, commanding voice
That I could not drown or still.

While I toiled, a mountain, or silver lake
Would be dancing before my eyes,
Or a field of daisies, or yellow buttercups
And a gorgeous golden sunrise.

A song bird, or bough of plum blossom's sweet
Or a nest with it's helpless young,
Butterflies, with rainbow hues on their wings
Or rocks, where the cool moss clung.

I would try with greater effort still
To hold my mind at peace.
But the harder I tried, the vain'er it seemed,
For the turmoil of my soul increased.

That little voice, no longer a hidden thing;
Has reigned supreme since the day
That my stubborn self, was persuaded to write,
Of the things, that over my mind held sway.

One part of me will register objects seen
Each color, sound or move.
While the other with labor, struggles to think,
Of words whereby to approve.

But that battle is over, and conscience wins.
It is now far in the lead;
My mind is placid, will subdued,
And my soul, from the turmoil freed.