 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
THE MAN-WO.
Ah, it is not one of either sex,
And to neither is it dear,
Though combining faults of both, to vex
Victims that may come too near;
Feminine in form alone, and dress
Borrowed from the ancient books—
Not the modern lovely nakedness,
Just a figleaf and some hooks;
All that fashion will not choose to take,
If the fancy farthest go,
It adopts as armour, thus to make
The Man-Wo.
And to neither is it dear,
Though combining faults of both, to vex
Victims that may come too near;
Feminine in form alone, and dress
Borrowed from the ancient books—
Not the modern lovely nakedness,
Just a figleaf and some hooks;
All that fashion will not choose to take,
If the fancy farthest go,
It adopts as armour, thus to make
The Man-Wo.
806
Mark, this monster hides in crystal house,
Playing still with lives and straws,
And is death to any man or mouse,
In the compass of its claws;
For, behind the spectacles, it spies
Each defect in Church and State,
Coloured by the jaundice of its eyes,
Blasting like an evil fate;
Nought is sacred to its demon spite,
As it ravens to and fro,
And descends on monarch or on mite
The Man-Wo.
Playing still with lives and straws,
And is death to any man or mouse,
In the compass of its claws;
For, behind the spectacles, it spies
Each defect in Church and State,
Coloured by the jaundice of its eyes,
Blasting like an evil fate;
Nought is sacred to its demon spite,
As it ravens to and fro,
And descends on monarch or on mite
The Man-Wo.
In ill-fitting, ill-assorted clothes,
Out it sallies on the murderous march,
Dealing looks that dreadful are as oaths,
Grim with learnéd stays and starch;
Children know its warpath well from far,
Fly the lips that tightly purse,
Thankful to escape with scratch or scar,
Or the blessing that is worse;
Innocents too young to tell that shape,
Smiling turn to it, and, lo,
Find a terror, human half, half ape,
The Man-Wo.
Out it sallies on the murderous march,
Dealing looks that dreadful are as oaths,
Grim with learnéd stays and starch;
Children know its warpath well from far,
Fly the lips that tightly purse,
Thankful to escape with scratch or scar,
Or the blessing that is worse;
Innocents too young to tell that shape,
Smiling turn to it, and, lo,
Find a terror, human half, half ape,
The Man-Wo.
Free from passions of the earth, and prone
To the penance and the prayer,
Bound with mockery of virgin zone,
Shame wherein it has no share;
Cold and hard and narrow as the grave,
To whate'er is sweet and nice,
Stiff as stones that clammy churchyards pave,
And without one honest vice;
Hating every charm of face or dress,
And each grace, with damning no
For the gifts of Nature meant to bless,—
The Man-Wo.
To the penance and the prayer,
Bound with mockery of virgin zone,
Shame wherein it has no share;
Cold and hard and narrow as the grave,
To whate'er is sweet and nice,
Stiff as stones that clammy churchyards pave,
And without one honest vice;
Hating every charm of face or dress,
And each grace, with damning no
For the gifts of Nature meant to bless,—
The Man-Wo.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |