The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott Edited by his Son Edwin Elliott ... A New and Revised Edition: Two Volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott |  |
EPISTLE TO G. C. HOLLAND, ESQ., M.D.,
WITH MRS. LOUDON'S “PHILANTHROPIC ECONOMY; OR, THE PHILOSOPHY OF HAPPINESS.”
Doctor, I send you, with this scrawl,
A thing by no means common;
For, by the Power that made us all,
I send—a perfect woman!
A thing by no means common;
For, by the Power that made us all,
I send—a perfect woman!
I do not praise her cheek's rich hue,
Her dress, her air of fashion;
I say not that the soul's deep blue
Melts in her eye of passion;
Her dress, her air of fashion;
I say not that the soul's deep blue
Melts in her eye of passion;
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But I commend her to the heart
On which your own reposes,
Because her stern worth can impart
A grace like rain on roses;
On which your own reposes,
Because her stern worth can impart
A grace like rain on roses;
And teach parental flowers to teach
The love of gainful duty
To every plant within her reach,
And all their buds of beauty.
The love of gainful duty
To every plant within her reach,
And all their buds of beauty.
The meek-tress'd angel of your home
May take to her own bosom
Thoughts bright and pure as ocean's foam,
And fresh as morning's blossom.
May take to her own bosom
Thoughts bright and pure as ocean's foam,
And fresh as morning's blossom.
Nor need she dread a rival's look,
Or hate a rival's merit:
I send—a woman in a book!
A world-awaking spirit!
Or hate a rival's merit:
I send—a woman in a book!
A world-awaking spirit!
A charm! a host! a scourge! a sting!
By tyrants seen with sadness!
A truth-taught Power! whose mental wing
Shall smite them into madness!
By tyrants seen with sadness!
A truth-taught Power! whose mental wing
Shall smite them into madness!
Oh, thanks to Loudon and to thee,
Sword-breaking might of letters!
Enfranchised woman shall set free
The slave who forged her fetters!
Sword-breaking might of letters!
Enfranchised woman shall set free
The slave who forged her fetters!
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For Truth is freedom unto those
Whose souls have strength to seize her;
They play a game which none can lose,
Who seek her
Whose souls have strength to seize her;
They play a game which none can lose,
Who seek her
Ebenezer.
| The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott | |