Coming

Because the time is ripe, the age is ready,
Because the world her woman's help demands,
Out of the long subjection and seclusion
Come to our field of warfare and confusion
The mother's heart and hands.

Long has she stood aside, endured and waited,
While man swung forward, toiling on alone;
Now, for the weary man, so long ill-mated,
Now, for the world for which she was created,
Comes woman to her own.

Not for herself! though sweet the air of freedom;
Not for herself, though dear the new-born power;
But for the child, who needs a nobler mother,
For the whole people, needing one another,
Comes woman to her hour. 

Charlotte Perkins Gilman (1911)

Song for Equal Suffrage

Day of hope and day of glory! After slavery and woe,

Comes the dawn of woman’s freedom, and the light shall grow and grow

Until every man and woman equal liberty shall know,

In Freedom marching on!

Woman’s right is woman’s duty! For our share in life we call!

Our will it is not weakened and our power it is not small.

We are half of every nation! We are mothers of them all!

In Wisdom marching on!

Not for self but larger service has our cry for freedom grown,

There is crime, disease and warfare in a world of men alone,

In the name of love we’re rising now to serve and save our own,

As Peace comes marching on!

By every sweet and tender tie around our heartstrings curled,

In the cause of nobler motherhood is woman’s flag unfurled,

Till every child shall know the joy and peace of mother’s world–

As Love comes marching on!

We will help to make a pruning hook of every outgrown sword,

We will help to knit the nations in continuing accord,

In humanity made perfect is the glory of the Lord,

As His world goes marching on!

 Suffrage Songs and Verses 

by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, 1911

The Rights Of Woman. An Occasional Address Spoken By Miss Fontenelle On Her Benefit Night, Nov. 26, 1792

While Europe's eye is fix'd on mighty things,
The fate of empires and the fall of kings;
While quacks of state must each produce his plan,
And even children lisp the Rights of Man;
Amid this mighty fuss just let me mention,
The Rights of Woman merit some attention.


First on the sexes' intermix'd connexion,
One sacred Right of Woman is protection.
The tender flower that lifts its head, elate,
Helpless, must fall before the blasts of fate,
Sunk on the earth, defac'd its lovely form,
Unless your shelter ward th' impending storm.


Our second Right, but needless here is caution,
To keep that right inviolate's the fashion,
Each man of sense has it so full before him,
He'd die before he'd wrong it, 'tis decorum.
There was, indeed, in far less polish'd days,
A time, when rough, rude man had haughty ways;
Would swagger, swear, get drunk, kick up a riot,
Nay, even thus invade a lady's quiet.


Now, thank our stars! these Gothic times are fled;
Now, well-bred men, and you are all well-bred,
Most justly think (and we are much the gainers)
Such conduct neither spirit, wit, nor manners.


For Right the third, our last, our best, our dearest,
That right to fluttering female hearts the nearest,
Which even the Rights of Kings in low prostration
Most humbly own, 'tis dear, dear admiration!
In that blest sphere alone we live and move;
There taste that life of life, immortal love.
Smiles, glances, sighs, tears, fits, flirtations, airs,
'Gainst such an host what flinty savage dares,
When awful Beauty joins with all her charms,
Who is so rash as rise in rebel arms?


But truce with kings and truce with constitutions,
With bloody armaments and revolutions,
Let majesty your first attention summon,
Ah! ça ira! the majesty of woman!

Robert Burns