Julia Ward Howe Poems

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Julia Ward Howe
Julia Ward Howe (May 27, 1819 October 17, 1910) was a prominent American abolitionist, social activist, and poet most famous as the author of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." Born Julia Ward in New York City, she was the fourth of seven children born to Samuel Ward (1786 1839) and Julia Rush Cutler. Her father was a well-to-do banker. Her paternal grandparents were Lieutenant Colonel Samuel Ward (May 1, 1756 November 27, 1839) of the Continental Army and Phoebe Greene. Her maternal grandparents were Benjamin Clarke and Sarah Mitchell Cutler. Lieutenant Colonel Samuel Ward was a son of Samuel Ward, a colonial Governor of Rhode Island and later a delegate to the Continental Congress, and his wife Anna Ray. Phoebe Greene was a daughter of William Greene, Governor of Rhode Island and his wife Catharine Ray. In 1843 she married a hero of the Greek revolution, physician Dr. Samuel Gridley Howe nicknamed Chev, who founded the Perkins Institute for the Blind. The couple made their home in South Boston, had six children (five of whom lived to adulthood), and were active in the Free Soil Party. She was a member of the Unitarian church. Howe died of pneumonia at her home, Oak Glen, in Portsmouth, Rhode Island, at the age of 91. She is buried in the Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

the spider and the fly
 
 
AN APOLOGUE.
A NEW VERSION OF AN OLD STORY.

Will you walk into my parlour?" said th... [read poem]
the sparrow's nest
 
 
Nay, only look what I have found!
A Sparrow's nest upon the ground;
A Sparrow's nest as yo... [read poem]
the wood-mouse
 
 
D' ye know the little Wood-Mouse,
That pretty little thing,
That sits among the forest... [read poem]
betrayal
 
 
If a man says half himself in the light, adroit
Way a tune shakes into equilibrium,
Or app... [read poem]
battle hymn of the republic
 
 
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where ... [read poem]
the battle-hymn of the republic
 
 
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where ... [read poem]
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