[Poems by Osgood in] The ladies' wreath a selection from the female poetic writers of England and America |
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A FRAGMENT. |
 | [Poems by Osgood in] The ladies' wreath |  |
336
A FRAGMENT.
Oh, do believe me, Julian! woman's heart,—A true, proud, loving, woman's, ne'er was won,
By that must worthless bubble, Flattery.
Your thoughtless words betray their own light falsehood,
For we are very sure, when lips o'er praise,
The mind must undervalue our true worth,
And wrong our intellect,—deeming we try,
With child-like eagerness and love, to catch
Your bribe for hearts,—your rainbow-lit illusion.
Why, 't is a heartless insult! that doth call
For all a woman's spirit to resist!—
Now—in our injured cause,—I dare ye all!—
And fling our gauntlet proudly at your feet;—
But once o'erstep Truth's pure and holy limit,
And from that hour, your eloquence is lost—
Your worship scorned—your sweetest whispers vain,
As the fair eastern fruit that looks so rich,
And tempts the lip, with its bright nothingness.
| [Poems by Osgood in] The ladies' wreath | |