Here you will find the Poem My Heart of poet Frances Ellen Watkins
List I to the hurried beatings Of my heart; How its quickened, loud repeatings Make me start! Often do I hear it throbbing Fast and wild; As I've heard it, after sobbing, When a child. Why so wild, so swift and heated, Little heart? Is there something in thee seated, Baffling art? Pain with all thy throbs is blended-- Pain so dread! Oftentimes life seems suspended By a thread! Then thou'lt grow so still--like ocean In its rest;-- Till I scarce can feel a motion In my breast. Think'st thy house is dark and dreary, Veiled in night? Art thou pining, sad and weary, For the light? Wouldst be free from the dominions That control; Spreading all thy golden pinions Toward the goal? Gladly, gladly, would I free thee From Earth's thrall! With what bliss and joy to see thee Rise o'er all! But 'tis not for me to aid thee In thy flight; For the Holy One who made thee, Doeth right. When his own good time arriveth, Then will He, From the load with which thou strivest, Set thee free.
