I'd rather have the thought of you
To hold against my heart,
My spirit to be taught of you
With west winds blowing,
...
God, when you thought of a pine tree,
How did you think of a star?
How did you dream of the Milky Way
...
In spite of war, in spite of death,
In spite of all man's sufferings,
Something within me laughs and sings
And I must praise with all my breath.
...
When Nature wants to drill a man
And thrill a man,
And skill a man,
When Nature wants to mould a man
...
He is known to the sun-white Majesties
Who stand at the gates of dawn.
He is known to the cloud-borne company
Whose souls but late have gone.
...
Born in Washington, D.C. Educated by private tutors, the public schools, and by special University courses. Miss Morgan entered the journalistic field while still a young girl and did very brilliant work on papers of Chicago and New York. Her work covered all phases of life from those of society to the slums. She visited police courts, jails, and all places where humanity suffers and struggles, and it was no doubt her early work in the newspaper field that gave to her later work, both in poetry and fiction, its strong social bias. Probably no poet of the present time responds more keenly to the social needs of the period, nor has a keener sense of the opportunity for service. Miss Morgan was one of the delegates to the First International Congress of Women, at The Hague, during the first year of the war, and has appeared frequently in readings from her own work. In recognition of her literary accomplishments Angela Morgan was awarded in 1942 an honorary degree (Litt.D.) by the Golden State University, Los Angeles. She died on January 24, 1957 at Mt. Marion, New York at the home of her friends Mr. and Mrs. Warren Meyer with whom she had spent the last years of her life. Her poems and writings are full of hope and voice of optimism despite her financial problems.)
Choice
I'd rather have the thought of you
To hold against my heart,
My spirit to be taught of you
With west winds blowing,
Than all the warm caresses
Of another love's bestowing,
Or all the glories of the world
In which you had no part.
I'd rather have the theme of you
To thread my nights and days,
I'd rather have the dream of you
With faint stars glowing,
I'd rather have the want of you,
The rich, elusive taunt of you
Forever and forever and forever unconfessed
Than claim the alien comfort
Of any other's breast.
O lover! O my lover,
That this should come to me!
I'd rather have the hope for you,
Ah, Love, I'd rather grope for you
Within the great abyss
Than claim another's kiss --
Alone I'd rather go my way
Throughout eternity.
I have a Christmas card from Angela, dated 1945. She was a dear friend of my aunt, Fannie Kendall