Volume 6, No. 2, June, 1918

Page twenty-six The Internationalist
The Poetry of Ruth Le Prade
By David Bobspa
RUTH
LE PRADE, one of the most promising of the
younger group of Western writers, early espoused the
cause of humanity. Her poetry is palpitant with life and
love for all life. Passing through the weary way of crass
materialism into a rich and beautiful life of spirituality, she
has caught the vision of a democratic earth. Activity in the
Socialist and Pacifist movements has brought her into prominence
in the radical worid. Her poetry was early recognized
by Edwin Markham, who wrote a beautiful tribute to the
young Los Angeles poet in his introduction to her book, "A
Woman Free, and Other Poems."
Ruth began her literary career by contributions to the
Socialist and labor press of California under the title of
"In Passing." She is known by her Golden State comrades
by the simple name of "Ruth."
"A Woman Free" is one of the finest paeons of liberated
womanhood in current literature. It begins:
Oh I am a wsman free ! My song
Flows from my soul with pure and joyful strength.
I shall be heard thru all the noise of things
A song of joy where songs of joy were not.
My sister singers, singing in the past,
Sang songs of melody but not of joy—
;
For woman's name was sorrow, and the slave -
Is never joyful, tho he smiles.
1 am a woman free. Too long
I was held a captive in th e dust. Too 1> ong
My soul was surfeited with toil or ease
And rotted as the plaything of a slave.
1 am a woman free at last
After the crumbling centuries of time.
Free to achieve and understand
Free to become and live.
.
And, after reciting the story of woman's emancipation, the
poem ends:
Oh I am free ! My song
Flows from my soul with pure and joyful strength
It shall be heard thru all the noise of things
A song of joy where songs of joy were not.
Oh I am free! I thrill
With radiant life and gladness.
I advance towards all that waits for me.
I chant the song of freedom as I go.
My face is toward the sun.
My soul is toward the light.
My feet are turned toward all that waits for me.
I advance! I advance!
Let ignorance and Tyranny
Tremble at sound of my song
Ruth has ever been a devotee at the shrine of liberation,
and one of her latest poems, published for the first time in
"The Dead Line" is:
THE REBEL
If God is a tyrant
Then shall I rebel against him;
I shall summon hosts of angels
To rebel against him
I shall never rest
Until with Satan as my ally
I storm the gales of heaven
And overthrow Him 1
It is witR a different vision that Ruth turns to the beauties
of nature, when her heart swells with such songs as:
THE PURPLE WISTERIA
Hie purple wisteria grows upward, seeking the stars,
Sweet is its perfume, strangely sweet
And silver are its leaves, fairy leaves.
I walk in the moonlight near the purple wisteria which grows
upward, towards th e stars.
I walk in the moonlight near the strange, sweet flower that I
love so.
Oh the mystery of the night is in my blood!
And the charm of the moonlight is in my heart
And the fragrance of the flower thrills thru my
Oh I am mad with strange and passionate joy!
soul!
Flower that I love so, flower that grows upward, seeking the stars;
Flower with strange, sweet perfume and the silver fairy leaves;
Why do you thrill me with such strange and passionate joy?
Why do you madden me with ecstasy divine:
Flower that I love so, your beauty vibrates thru my soul forever
!
Oh help me upward, for I, too, am seeking the stars
Like a benediction from the Man of Galilee, reads:
WE CANNOT MOUNT ALONE
On I would mount to the bright stars;
I would be joyful always
I would be pure and full of strength;
But alas, I cannot
For as long as one man is sorrowful and broken
I, too, am sorrowful and broken.
As long as one woman is surrounded with vileness
I, too, am surrounded with vileness;
And as long as one soul is weak
I, too, am weak.
No bird falls to the earth with broken wings;
No lily's lovely whiteness turns to brown
But I, too, am affected.
And as long as one small child sobs in the night
My heart will answer, sobbing too.
The stars are bright, tho they are far away.
I cannot mount to them alone,
Nor would I if I could.
I am no nearer to them than the level of the lowest man.
I can but lift myself by raising him.
Humanity is one, we cannot rise apart;
And joy, that strange, sweet thing which all men seek.
Is never found by those who seek alone.
The stars are bright tho they are far away.
We cannot climb towards them apart.
Oh let us wake, thrilled with radiant love,
And mount forever upward, hand in hand
A strange cry of vividity we discover in the opening lines
of "Because Your Beauty Is":
Darkness, Earthquake and Storm,
And I in the ruins alone,
With my crumbling heart at my feet.
Then the luminous whiteness of your soul shone down upon me;
And I lifted my face , unto your love
A love which folds all creatures to your breast,
The love of Socrates and Christ;
Understanding all.
Forgiving all,
Hoping all
And I was glad
Because your beauty is!
Ruth is young in years of this life, but an old soul, universal
in her loves and passions. She has lived such messages
as:
I have loved winds that wander, tossing trees, tossing the
silver leaves
Touching my body softly or with rude strength;
Blowing thru my hair; saluting me and passing on.