Stones from The Quarry or, Moods of Mind. By Henry Browne [i.e. Henry Ellison] |
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THE “STRONG-MINDED WOMAN.” |
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 | Stones from The Quarry |  |
THE “STRONG-MINDED WOMAN.”
Hybrid art thou! Nature mistook her plan
In thee, and boggled—then, as half in shame,
Little of Woman left thee, save the name,
(Sweet name abused!) and still less of the Man!
Thou gain'st a loss—art shorter by more span;
Two opposite natures in thee freeze and flame,
Two distincts, either—neither, not one same!
We wonder how thou endest, how began!
'Tis Woman with a fishy terminal—
An angel of half darkness and half light—
A thing amphibious, which the waters call
Not fish; nor the land flesh, of any right.
How got'st thou into Noah's Ark? we all
Know well, alas! thou didst get out, thou fright!
In thee, and boggled—then, as half in shame,
Little of Woman left thee, save the name,
(Sweet name abused!) and still less of the Man!
Thou gain'st a loss—art shorter by more span;
Two opposite natures in thee freeze and flame,
Two distincts, either—neither, not one same!
We wonder how thou endest, how began!
'Tis Woman with a fishy terminal—
An angel of half darkness and half light—
A thing amphibious, which the waters call
Not fish; nor the land flesh, of any right.
How got'st thou into Noah's Ark? we all
Know well, alas! thou didst get out, thou fright!
O dearest Woman! all sweet thoughts in one;
Let me perfume my lips with your sweet name,
And all the sweet additions to the same;
Wife, sister, mother, nurse, friend, I should run
On in a maze, as 'twere, and ne'er have done,
Nor find my way out, till one of you came,
And on her one perfection fixed my aim,
Round which our life should move, as earth round sun!
Thou hast thy rights, dear Woman, noblest rights!
At thy pure breast we drink life's purest stream,
And taught aright there from the first, the heights
Of Being climb, and half angelic seem.
God for His “little ones” your care requites,
And Man as ministering angels will esteem!
Let me perfume my lips with your sweet name,
And all the sweet additions to the same;
Wife, sister, mother, nurse, friend, I should run
On in a maze, as 'twere, and ne'er have done,
Nor find my way out, till one of you came,
And on her one perfection fixed my aim,
Round which our life should move, as earth round sun!
Thou hast thy rights, dear Woman, noblest rights!
At thy pure breast we drink life's purest stream,
And taught aright there from the first, the heights
Of Being climb, and half angelic seem.
God for His “little ones” your care requites,
And Man as ministering angels will esteem!
| Stones from The Quarry | |