 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
51
THE FIRST WOMAN.
God made a woman; and he stood aghastFor very wonder; as a sculptor sees
With terror and with trembling of the knees
And tears of yearning his Ideal fast
Emerging from the marble, so God cast
His careless chisel downward, clasped his hands!
And keen upon the Ivory Foot that stands
Across the ages in expansion vast
The edge fell—hardly did he feel the sting,
But blood was drawn, and ever since the day
When God's great poem “Woman” out of clay
His cunning hand was powerful to bring,
He bears in recollection, so they say,
Across his foot that clean-cut ruby ring.
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