 | Peter Cornclips |  |
124
STANZAS ON WOMAN.
When proud man, for thirst of fame,
Madly wades through blood and slaughter,
What his savage heart can tame?—
Woman!—Nature's fairest daughter.
In this thorny vale of grief
Where shall weary man repose him?
Where obtain such blest relief,
As on lovely woman's bosom?
Madly wades through blood and slaughter,
What his savage heart can tame?—
Woman!—Nature's fairest daughter.
In this thorny vale of grief
Where shall weary man repose him?
Where obtain such blest relief,
As on lovely woman's bosom?
When the infant is distrest,
What is then its sweetest soother?—
'Tis the soft—the tender breast,
Of its anxious, fondling mother.
Where's the only heaven on earth,
Where those buds celestial blossom—
Truth, love, feeling, meekness, worth—
Where?—in virtuous woman's bosom.
What is then its sweetest soother?—
'Tis the soft—the tender breast,
Of its anxious, fondling mother.
Where's the only heaven on earth,
Where those buds celestial blossom—
Truth, love, feeling, meekness, worth—
Where?—in virtuous woman's bosom.
125
What impels the patriot band
On to actions more than human,
To redeem their dear-loved land—
What!—but sweet, endearing woman?
Yes, her meek imploring tear
With supernal fire endues them:—
Freedom! then, how doubly dear,
Breathed upon her panting bosom!
On to actions more than human,
To redeem their dear-loved land—
What!—but sweet, endearing woman?
Yes, her meek imploring tear
With supernal fire endues them:—
Freedom! then, how doubly dear,
Breathed upon her panting bosom!
| Peter Cornclips | |