 | Woman, A Poem |  |
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I. PART I.
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CONTENTS OF PART I.
Elegiac tribute to the Princess Charlotte.... Woman has acquired rank and respect, in proportion to the progress of refinement and piety.... The Libertine, the Clown, the Pedant, the Witling and the Deist still despise her.... The pursuits and characteristics of each sex contradistinguished .... The discrepancy between both beneficial.... Women excel us, 1st in Devotion; 2d. in Chastity; 3d. in Modesty; 4th. in Charity; 5th. in Good Faith; 6th. in Forgiveness; 7th. in Parental affection.... Episode of a mother and her child.... Women have often excelled as sovereigns; they rule the destinies of empires, by presiding over national morality.
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O unforewarned events of humankind!
Hope ever vain, ambition ever blind!
I, who but now, with tuneful rapture fraught,
This votive page had just for Charlotte wrought;
Had wrought, prospective of the happy doom,
That her blue glances might the leaf illume;
That lips, whose breath an empire would obey,
Pleased might submit their movement to my lay;—
I who, secure, was sketching, even but now,
Young Contemplation throned upon her brow;
Grace, Wisdom, Truth, a genius unexcelled.
A crown in prospect, hearts already held;—
Who paused to call her mother, to compare
Poetic vigil with maternal care;
Touch the new passion, and her soul incline,
As heaven her offspring saved, to foster mine—
I now must all erase; all, all, and rue,
How treacherous Death has made my page untrue.
Even while I sang, cold lay th'imperial bust,
Those azure rays extinct, that forehead dust;
Dark and unsphered that intellectual sky,
And that new passion wakened but to die.
Yet shall not Death the total page disprove;
No, still one heartfelt truth remains—our love!
Hope ever vain, ambition ever blind!
I, who but now, with tuneful rapture fraught,
This votive page had just for Charlotte wrought;
Had wrought, prospective of the happy doom,
That her blue glances might the leaf illume;
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Pleased might submit their movement to my lay;—
I who, secure, was sketching, even but now,
Young Contemplation throned upon her brow;
Grace, Wisdom, Truth, a genius unexcelled.
A crown in prospect, hearts already held;—
Who paused to call her mother, to compare
Poetic vigil with maternal care;
Touch the new passion, and her soul incline,
As heaven her offspring saved, to foster mine—
I now must all erase; all, all, and rue,
How treacherous Death has made my page untrue.
Even while I sang, cold lay th'imperial bust,
Those azure rays extinct, that forehead dust;
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And that new passion wakened but to die.
Yet shall not Death the total page disprove;
No, still one heartfelt truth remains—our love!
Beyond the sun, O Regent, distant far
Above, as thou beneath the utmost star;
Orbed in a glory, that resplendent plays
Thro' her flowered tresses, coronets of rays,
Thy daughter sits enthroned; and leaning down,
Smiles at that golden woe, an earthly crown.
To her, pomp, conquest, all which kings acquire,
But garland worms, emblazon breathing mire;
And more she mourns, (as Seraphs suffer cares,)
The sceptred torment that her father heirs,
Than he the darling child for ever flown,
And the lost transmit of his lineal throne.
Above, as thou beneath the utmost star;
Orbed in a glory, that resplendent plays
Thro' her flowered tresses, coronets of rays,
Thy daughter sits enthroned; and leaning down,
Smiles at that golden woe, an earthly crown.
To her, pomp, conquest, all which kings acquire,
But garland worms, emblazon breathing mire;
And more she mourns, (as Seraphs suffer cares,)
The sceptred torment that her father heirs,
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And the lost transmit of his lineal throne.
Unprofitable praises! frustrate tears!
Deaf is the grave; go, flatter conscious ears.
And shall this leaf, forgetful of the dead,
Invoke the living? Perish, Verse, instead!
No, tho' an Empress, proud of such renown,
Should grave the song on her immortal crown!
Deaf is the grave; go, flatter conscious ears.
And shall this leaf, forgetful of the dead,
Invoke the living? Perish, Verse, instead!
No, tho' an Empress, proud of such renown,
Should grave the song on her immortal crown!
In early days, ere nations were refined,
Imperious man degraded Womankind;
But raised her by degrees, as social good,
And moral law were better understood.
Till, when the holy son of Woman came,
And Eve's offence was lost in Mary's fame,
Man, virtuous and devout beyond the past,
Restored his helpmate to her sphere at last;
And shunning either indiscreet extreme,
Now leaves her not opprest and not supreme.
Imperious man degraded Womankind;
But raised her by degrees, as social good,
And moral law were better understood.
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And Eve's offence was lost in Mary's fame,
Man, virtuous and devout beyond the past,
Restored his helpmate to her sphere at last;
And shunning either indiscreet extreme,
Now leaves her not opprest and not supreme.
Yet even our own enlightened time retains
Some partial tincture of the former stains.
Pale Libertines, whom wanton arts allure,
Still by the vicious female judge the pure.
Companion of his groom, the Clown confounds
Subservient Woman with his horse and hounds;
And Pedants, who from books, not nature, draw,
Try and condemn her by scholastic law.
Wits, for an epigram, her fame undo,
And those who God blaspheme, mock Woman too.
Some partial tincture of the former stains.
Pale Libertines, whom wanton arts allure,
Still by the vicious female judge the pure.
Companion of his groom, the Clown confounds
Subservient Woman with his horse and hounds;
And Pedants, who from books, not nature, draw,
Try and condemn her by scholastic law.
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And those who God blaspheme, mock Woman too.
All such conclude her of inferior clay,
Because she wants some merits men display.
As well they may condemn the chilly moon,
Because her crescent cannot glow, like noon.
For if that orb, whose affluent dew bestows
Balm on the glebe, another sun arose,
This flowery ball would wither, stagnant gales
Engender death, and midnight scorch the vales.
Even thus, if Woman public glories sought,
Spread the tempestuous sail, harangued and fought,
That inroad loveless rivalries would breed,
And sexual war to national succeed;
While other Amazons would dwell alone,
And gird the single breast with iron zone
Because she wants some merits men display.
As well they may condemn the chilly moon,
Because her crescent cannot glow, like noon.
For if that orb, whose affluent dew bestows
Balm on the glebe, another sun arose,
This flowery ball would wither, stagnant gales
Engender death, and midnight scorch the vales.
Even thus, if Woman public glories sought,
Spread the tempestuous sail, harangued and fought,
That inroad loveless rivalries would breed,
And sexual war to national succeed;
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And gird the single breast with iron zone
No, heaven a contrast not unmeet, designed
Between the bearded and the blushing kind.
Man, from those moments, when his infant age
Cried for the moon, ambitious aims engage.
The world subdued, more worlds he wishes given,
He piles his impious tower to clamber heaven;
Scoops cities under earth, abode maintains
On restless and immeasurable mains;
Mounts air, and high above the thunder runs,
Now flaked with sleet, now reddened under suns.
Even in his pastime man his soul reveals:
Raised with carousing shout, his goblet reels.
Now from his chase imperial lions fly,
And now he stakes a princedom on a die.
What would he more? The consecrated game
Of murder, must transmit his epic name.
An empire tempts him; at his stern command,
The armed cloud hails iron o'er the land.
Earth bends beneath a vast and pondrous tread,
Son slaughters sire, the dying stab the dead.
The vallies roar, that loved a warbling mood,
The clotted primrose fattens upon blood;
And corpses sicken streams, and towns expire,
And colour the nocturnal clouds with fire.
Last, vultures pounce upon the finished strife,
And dabble in the plash of human life.
Man covets Freedom; yes, with wolfish ken,
The lawless freedom of the howling den.
Man covets Peace too; yes, the stilly void,
The dire repose when all things are destroyed;
The peace that worlds in desolation wear,
The calm of death, the silence of despair.
Between the bearded and the blushing kind.
Man, from those moments, when his infant age
Cried for the moon, ambitious aims engage.
The world subdued, more worlds he wishes given,
He piles his impious tower to clamber heaven;
Scoops cities under earth, abode maintains
On restless and immeasurable mains;
Mounts air, and high above the thunder runs,
Now flaked with sleet, now reddened under suns.
Even in his pastime man his soul reveals:
Raised with carousing shout, his goblet reels.
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And now he stakes a princedom on a die.
What would he more? The consecrated game
Of murder, must transmit his epic name.
An empire tempts him; at his stern command,
The armed cloud hails iron o'er the land.
Earth bends beneath a vast and pondrous tread,
Son slaughters sire, the dying stab the dead.
The vallies roar, that loved a warbling mood,
The clotted primrose fattens upon blood;
And corpses sicken streams, and towns expire,
And colour the nocturnal clouds with fire.
Last, vultures pounce upon the finished strife,
And dabble in the plash of human life.
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The lawless freedom of the howling den.
Man covets Peace too; yes, the stilly void,
The dire repose when all things are destroyed;
The peace that worlds in desolation wear,
The calm of death, the silence of despair.
But the meek female far from war removes,
Girt with the Graces and endearing Loves.
To rear the life we destine to destroy,
To bind the wound we plant, is her employ.
Her rapine is to press from healing bud,
Or healthful herb, the vegetable blood;
Her answer, at the martial blast abhorred,
Harmonic noise along the warbling chord.
To her belong light roundelay and reel,
To her the crackling hearth and humming wheel;
(Sounds of content!) to her the milky kine,
And Peace, O Woman, gentle peace is thine.
Girt with the Graces and endearing Loves.
To rear the life we destine to destroy,
To bind the wound we plant, is her employ.
Her rapine is to press from healing bud,
Or healthful herb, the vegetable blood;
Her answer, at the martial blast abhorred,
Harmonic noise along the warbling chord.
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To her the crackling hearth and humming wheel;
(Sounds of content!) to her the milky kine,
And Peace, O Woman, gentle peace is thine.
Hence in each sex, for each peculiar sphere,
Adapted attributes of mind inhere.
Prone o'er abstruse research, let man expound
Dark causes; what abyss our planet drowned;
And where the fiery star its hundred years
Of absence travels, ere it re-appears.
To Woman, whose best books are human hearts,
Wise heaven a genius less profound imparts.
His awful, her's is lovely; his should tell
How thunderbolts, and her's how roses fell.
Her rapid mind decides while his debates,
She feels a truth that he but calculates.
He provident, averts approaching ill,
She snatches present good with ready skill.
That active perseverance his, which gains,
And her's that passive patience which sustains.
Winds shatter oaks while osiers wave secure,
Seas waste the rock while yielding sands endure;
And gentle Woman, to her fate resigned,
Prevails o'er woes that vanquish stern mankind.
Adapted attributes of mind inhere.
Prone o'er abstruse research, let man expound
Dark causes; what abyss our planet drowned;
And where the fiery star its hundred years
Of absence travels, ere it re-appears.
To Woman, whose best books are human hearts,
Wise heaven a genius less profound imparts.
His awful, her's is lovely; his should tell
How thunderbolts, and her's how roses fell.
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She feels a truth that he but calculates.
He provident, averts approaching ill,
She snatches present good with ready skill.
That active perseverance his, which gains,
And her's that passive patience which sustains.
Winds shatter oaks while osiers wave secure,
Seas waste the rock while yielding sands endure;
And gentle Woman, to her fate resigned,
Prevails o'er woes that vanquish stern mankind.
But even their forms imply their diverse ends,
And her's to grace and his to grandeur tends.
Their very virtues have a sexual line,
And his abroad and her's at home incline.
His, like a sounding river, good diffuse,
While her's are noiseless as the genial dews.
And her's to grace and his to grandeur tends.
Their very virtues have a sexual line,
And his abroad and her's at home incline.
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While her's are noiseless as the genial dews.
Yes, 'tis this contrast of pursuits and minds,
Attracts, endears, and social order binds.
For what one wants since other can bestow,
Kind treaties from that blest dependence flow.
Hill cannot hill, nor valley valley serve,
But each aids each, because their natures swerve.
Hence to his valiant arm her terrors fly,
Hence to her nursing hand his wounds apply.
If she, then, all his attributes enjoyed,
Ten thousand of her own were thus destroyed.
Attracts, endears, and social order binds.
For what one wants since other can bestow,
Kind treaties from that blest dependence flow.
Hill cannot hill, nor valley valley serve,
But each aids each, because their natures swerve.
Hence to his valiant arm her terrors fly,
Hence to her nursing hand his wounds apply.
If she, then, all his attributes enjoyed,
Ten thousand of her own were thus destroyed.
But dost thou doubt the blooming race assigned
More goodness and less guilt than pale mankind?
Go, in base cell, in pious temple look:
We have the fetter, they the sacred book.
What blesses hearths, what tempers social life?
The chaste reserve of virgin and of wife.
Let Woman, like her sensual master, roam,
Farewell all kindred bonds, all joys of home.
More goodness and less guilt than pale mankind?
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We have the fetter, they the sacred book.
What blesses hearths, what tempers social life?
The chaste reserve of virgin and of wife.
Let Woman, like her sensual master, roam,
Farewell all kindred bonds, all joys of home.
To guard that Virtue, to supply the place
Of courage, wanting in her gentle race,
Lo, modesty was given; mysterious spell,
Whose blush can shame, whose panic can repel.
Strong by the very weakness it betrays,
It sheds a mist before our fiery gaze.
The panting apprehension, quick to feel,
The shrinking grace that fain would grace conceal,
The beautiful rebuke that looks surprise,
The gentle vengeance of averted eyes;
These are its arms, and these supreme prevail.
Love pauses, Vice retracts his glozing tale.
Of courage, wanting in her gentle race,
Lo, modesty was given; mysterious spell,
Whose blush can shame, whose panic can repel.
Strong by the very weakness it betrays,
It sheds a mist before our fiery gaze.
The panting apprehension, quick to feel,
The shrinking grace that fain would grace conceal,
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The gentle vengeance of averted eyes;
These are its arms, and these supreme prevail.
Love pauses, Vice retracts his glozing tale.
Ask the grey pilgrim, by the surges cast
On hostile shores, and numbed beneath the blast,
Ask who revived him? who the hearth began
To kindle? who with spilling goblet ran?
O he will dart one spark of youthful flame,
And clasp his withered hands, and Woman name!
On hostile shores, and numbed beneath the blast,
Ask who revived him? who the hearth began
To kindle? who with spilling goblet ran?
O he will dart one spark of youthful flame,
And clasp his withered hands, and Woman name!
Not she with trait'rous kiss her Saviour stung,
Not she denied him with unholy tongue;
She, while Apostles shrank, could danger brave,
Last at his cross and earliest at his grave.
Not she denied him with unholy tongue;
She, while Apostles shrank, could danger brave,
Last at his cross and earliest at his grave.
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Whelm her with wrongs, her sacred trust reveal;
Asperse her, spurn her; then repent and kneel—
This expiates error, this her pity moves;
For pardon is the vengeance Woman loves.
Asperse her, spurn her; then repent and kneel—
This expiates error, this her pity moves;
For pardon is the vengeance Woman loves.
See the fond mother still and still admire
Her babe, in arms expert that never tire;
And chirping for its open kiss, delay,
With a sweet dotage, o'er the balmy play.
Then stories of its wondrous promise tell,
Interpret signs which she alone can spell:
Or point some charm remarked by her alone—
The father's eye, the dimple like her own;
While its small hand into her bosom steals,
And that remembered blessing half reveals.
Praise not herself; 'tis ineffectual art:
Applaud her Cherub and you win her heart.
Hung round with climbing prattlers, she disowns
Superior pomp, nor envies man his thrones;
Assiduous still to teach her infant race,
From their first lesson, the maternal face;
Till lips at coming kisses learn to close,
And either palm the clap of welcome knows;
Till, when pruned ringlets shine less sunny fair,
The tongue attempts and little feet go bare.
Her babe, in arms expert that never tire;
And chirping for its open kiss, delay,
With a sweet dotage, o'er the balmy play.
Then stories of its wondrous promise tell,
Interpret signs which she alone can spell:
Or point some charm remarked by her alone—
The father's eye, the dimple like her own;
While its small hand into her bosom steals,
And that remembered blessing half reveals.
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Applaud her Cherub and you win her heart.
Hung round with climbing prattlers, she disowns
Superior pomp, nor envies man his thrones;
Assiduous still to teach her infant race,
From their first lesson, the maternal face;
Till lips at coming kisses learn to close,
And either palm the clap of welcome knows;
Till, when pruned ringlets shine less sunny fair,
The tongue attempts and little feet go bare.
Let maids th' incomparable passion boast,
But mothers, sure, of all who love, love most.
Even she that shrinks at insects, would contend
With famished wolves, her children to defend:
For them whole marshalled horrors would defy,
Endure, repel, encounter, conquer, die!
But mothers, sure, of all who love, love most.
Even she that shrinks at insects, would contend
With famished wolves, her children to defend:
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Endure, repel, encounter, conquer, die!
When the great earthquake rooted rocks uptore,
And heaved new hills where meadows spread before;
In huge abysses when whole towns were lost,
And forests upon earthen billows tost;
A lonely mother, as she gave her boy
The fountain panting with maternal joy,
Felt sudden the portentous shock. Dismayed,
She clasped her child, and instant flight essayed.
But heaping ruins round her interpose,
Exclude the light and every outlet close;
Nor comes that aid her buried voice demands,
And the fallen pile derides her toiling hands.
All night she watches, and in fancy hears
Sounds of advancing axes at her ears.
Another and another night she mourns;
Again the peril and again returns.
Worse ills succeed; the breast with famine dry,
The lips still baffled there, the starving cry.
What wilt thou now, poor mother? Ah, what art
Can save thy wretched child about to part?
Each moment, at a gleaming chink, she tries
To search its features, whether yet it dies.
Now shrieks ‘Help, help!’ still, fainter by degrees,
‘Help, help!’ and calls her spouse beyond the seas.
Now with impetuous palm the door assails,
Now grinds the scrambled wall with bleeding nails.
Then seeks her infant at its piteous noise,
And forces mirth and in distraction toys;
And powerless, sports it on her striving knee,
And lamentably sobs out notes of glee.
Vain efforts! Sad it lies and unconsoled:
She feels its heart, 'tis turning icy cold,
‘Ah, sweet, ah, cruel! breathe, in pity move;
‘Here, here is milk—awake, my precious love!’
And heaved new hills where meadows spread before;
In huge abysses when whole towns were lost,
And forests upon earthen billows tost;
A lonely mother, as she gave her boy
The fountain panting with maternal joy,
Felt sudden the portentous shock. Dismayed,
She clasped her child, and instant flight essayed.
But heaping ruins round her interpose,
Exclude the light and every outlet close;
Nor comes that aid her buried voice demands,
And the fallen pile derides her toiling hands.
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Sounds of advancing axes at her ears.
Another and another night she mourns;
Again the peril and again returns.
Worse ills succeed; the breast with famine dry,
The lips still baffled there, the starving cry.
What wilt thou now, poor mother? Ah, what art
Can save thy wretched child about to part?
Each moment, at a gleaming chink, she tries
To search its features, whether yet it dies.
Now shrieks ‘Help, help!’ still, fainter by degrees,
‘Help, help!’ and calls her spouse beyond the seas.
Now with impetuous palm the door assails,
Now grinds the scrambled wall with bleeding nails.
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And forces mirth and in distraction toys;
And powerless, sports it on her striving knee,
And lamentably sobs out notes of glee.
Vain efforts! Sad it lies and unconsoled:
She feels its heart, 'tis turning icy cold,
‘Ah, sweet, ah, cruel! breathe, in pity move;
‘Here, here is milk—awake, my precious love!’
That moment, the convulsed and reeling walls
Split to their base; abrupt a fragment falls.
The sun darts inward with his glorious ray,
The verdant fields appear—away, away!
Swift thro' the chasm she rushes, soon restores
Her starving infant, and her God adores.
Split to their base; abrupt a fragment falls.
The sun darts inward with his glorious ray,
The verdant fields appear—away, away!
Swift thro' the chasm she rushes, soon restores
Her starving infant, and her God adores.
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O Woman, whose great Author bade the worst
Of all things earthly, be created first;
O Woman, last and best of all create,
Not formed from dust, as thy presumptuous mate;
But born beside his heart, thou toilest still,
To soothe thy birthplace and preserve from ill.
Still by thy birthplace whether loved or spurned,
Still to thy moody birthplace art thou turned.
The stream that hastes where'er its ocean dwells,
The wave that presses tho' the rock repels.
Mistrustful of each other, men, in thee,
A friend who cannot prove a rival, see.
The maimed, the wrinkled, the decayed, the blind,
All save the blooming lover, own thee kind.
And as blest rainbows the meridian shun,
But grace the rising and departing sun;
So at our prime, thy courtship disappears,
So tends our earliest age and latest years.
Of all things earthly, be created first;
O Woman, last and best of all create,
Not formed from dust, as thy presumptuous mate;
But born beside his heart, thou toilest still,
To soothe thy birthplace and preserve from ill.
Still by thy birthplace whether loved or spurned,
Still to thy moody birthplace art thou turned.
The stream that hastes where'er its ocean dwells,
The wave that presses tho' the rock repels.
Mistrustful of each other, men, in thee,
A friend who cannot prove a rival, see.
The maimed, the wrinkled, the decayed, the blind,
All save the blooming lover, own thee kind.
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But grace the rising and departing sun;
So at our prime, thy courtship disappears,
So tends our earliest age and latest years.
Yet acts still loftier might exalt my tome:—
How Woman oft forsook small-sceptred home;
Held realms, and prompt in enterprise to dare,
Bruised with the plumy steel her armed hair;
Or peaceful, ministered the state so well,
That laws seemed made to counsel, not compel.
Fair hands enhance free sceptres. Iron crowns
Sit best on bearded heads and kingly frowns.
Such govern states who social morals guide.
Hence Women with the hearth the throne decide;
And hence, to their blest influence, England owes
Each Virtue that preserves her safe from foes;
Faith, Honor, Sanctitude, Content sincere,
And homefelt Love that renders Country dear.
Hence, when the Corsic foe whole worlds enchained
Triumphant warfare single she maintained;
Stood unappalled and awful to the last,
While all the crouching nations shrank aghast.
Not more composed, (when whirlwinds howl along,
And cowering birds within the forest throng,)
The royal Eagle from his craggy throne,
Mounts on the storm, majestic and alone;
And steers his plumes athwart the dark profound,
While roaring thunders replicate around!
How Woman oft forsook small-sceptred home;
Held realms, and prompt in enterprise to dare,
Bruised with the plumy steel her armed hair;
Or peaceful, ministered the state so well,
That laws seemed made to counsel, not compel.
Fair hands enhance free sceptres. Iron crowns
Sit best on bearded heads and kingly frowns.
Such govern states who social morals guide.
Hence Women with the hearth the throne decide;
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Each Virtue that preserves her safe from foes;
Faith, Honor, Sanctitude, Content sincere,
And homefelt Love that renders Country dear.
Hence, when the Corsic foe whole worlds enchained
Triumphant warfare single she maintained;
Stood unappalled and awful to the last,
While all the crouching nations shrank aghast.
Not more composed, (when whirlwinds howl along,
And cowering birds within the forest throng,)
The royal Eagle from his craggy throne,
Mounts on the storm, majestic and alone;
And steers his plumes athwart the dark profound,
While roaring thunders replicate around!
| Woman, A Poem | |