 | Miscellaneous poems |  |
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RIGHTS OF WOMAN.
While Patriots on wide philosophic plan,
Declaim upon the wondrous rights of man,
May I presume to speak? and though uncommon,
Stand forth the champion of the rights of woman?
Nay, start not, gentle sirs; indeed, 'tis true,
Poor woman has her rights as well as you;
And if she's wise, she will assert them too.
If you'll have patience, and your wrath forbear,
In a few words I'll tell you what they are.
Declaim upon the wondrous rights of man,
May I presume to speak? and though uncommon,
Stand forth the champion of the rights of woman?
Nay, start not, gentle sirs; indeed, 'tis true,
Poor woman has her rights as well as you;
And if she's wise, she will assert them too.
If you'll have patience, and your wrath forbear,
In a few words I'll tell you what they are.
You know when man in a paradise was plac'd,
(Blest garden with eternal verdure grac'd,)
In vain for real happiness he tried,
Till Heaven in compassion, from his side
Taking a rib, fair Eve in all her beauty
Appear'd, to Adam, proffering her duty;
In terms so gentle, sweet, and void of art,
That ere he thought on't, Adam lost his heart.
Now pray don't think I mean to take Eve's part;
No, she'd no right—'twas acting very wrong,
To listen to the serpent's flattering tongue.
And from her fate her daughters ever claim
A right to be tenacious of their fame;
Knowing how easy she was led aside,
We claim a right to call up all our pride;
Discretion, honour, sense, to our assistance,
And keep each flattering coxcomb at a distance.
(Blest garden with eternal verdure grac'd,)
In vain for real happiness he tried,
Till Heaven in compassion, from his side
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Appear'd, to Adam, proffering her duty;
In terms so gentle, sweet, and void of art,
That ere he thought on't, Adam lost his heart.
Now pray don't think I mean to take Eve's part;
No, she'd no right—'twas acting very wrong,
To listen to the serpent's flattering tongue.
And from her fate her daughters ever claim
A right to be tenacious of their fame;
Knowing how easy she was led aside,
We claim a right to call up all our pride;
Discretion, honour, sense, to our assistance,
And keep each flattering coxcomb at a distance.
Then we assert our right; for 'tis our pride
In all domestic matters to preside;
And on the mystery of raising pies,
Compounding stews and soups, philosophize;
Study the vine, the bush, or bramble's fruit,
Into transparent jellies to transmute;
Whip the light sillabub, all froth and show,
White, sweet, and harmless, like a modern beau.
In all domestic matters to preside;
And on the mystery of raising pies,
Compounding stews and soups, philosophize;
Study the vine, the bush, or bramble's fruit,
Into transparent jellies to transmute;
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White, sweet, and harmless, like a modern beau.
Are fathers, brothers, friends, oppress'd with care—
We claim a right in every grief to share;
Shed balm upon their pillow of repose,
And strip of thorns life's quickly fading rose;
Augmenting to the utmost of our power,
The pleasures of the gay or tranquil hour.
While man abroad for happiness may roam,
'Tis ours to make a paradise at home.
We claim a right in every grief to share;
Shed balm upon their pillow of repose,
And strip of thorns life's quickly fading rose;
Augmenting to the utmost of our power,
The pleasures of the gay or tranquil hour.
While man abroad for happiness may roam,
'Tis ours to make a paradise at home.
Our known exclusive privilege of beauty,
You all allow—and next in filial duty,
Pre-eminent we stand.—The Grecian Dame,
Who daily to her father's prison came;
And while maternal fondness wrung her heart,
Forsook the mother's for the daughter's part:
The fair Virginia who would not withstand,
The stroke of death from a lov'd father's hand;
But meekly yielded, lest the next sad hour
Should give her to the vile Decemvir's pow'r:
The gentle Ruth, whose heart, by friendship tied,
Refus'd to leave forlorn Naomi's side;
Boldly asserted, and her right approv'd,
To serve the mother of the man she lov'd.
As 'tis our right, oh, be it still our praise,
To gild the eve of our dear parents' days;
Smooth the drear slope that leads to man's last doom,
And decorate with grateful love their tomb.
You all allow—and next in filial duty,
Pre-eminent we stand.—The Grecian Dame,
Who daily to her father's prison came;
And while maternal fondness wrung her heart,
Forsook the mother's for the daughter's part:
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The stroke of death from a lov'd father's hand;
But meekly yielded, lest the next sad hour
Should give her to the vile Decemvir's pow'r:
The gentle Ruth, whose heart, by friendship tied,
Refus'd to leave forlorn Naomi's side;
Boldly asserted, and her right approv'd,
To serve the mother of the man she lov'd.
As 'tis our right, oh, be it still our praise,
To gild the eve of our dear parents' days;
Smooth the drear slope that leads to man's last doom,
And decorate with grateful love their tomb.
Next 'tis our right, to watch the sick man's bed,
Bathe the swoln limb, or bind the aching head;
Present each nauseous draught with tenderness,
And hide the anxious tear, we can't repress;
On tiptoe glide around the darken'd room,
And strive by smiles to dissipate its gloom;
Cheer, comfort, help them patient to endure,
And mitigate the ills we cannot cure.
Bathe the swoln limb, or bind the aching head;
Present each nauseous draught with tenderness,
And hide the anxious tear, we can't repress;
On tiptoe glide around the darken'd room,
And strive by smiles to dissipate its gloom;
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And mitigate the ills we cannot cure.
We claim undoubted right, the tear to dry,
Which gushes from, Affliction's languid eye;
The widow's heart to cheer, her wrongs redress,
And be the mother of the parentless;
Snatch them from vice, or poverty's abode,
And consecrate their orphan lives to God.
Not by immuring them in gloomy cells,
Where palsied fear or superstition dwells;
But teaching them the duties of their station,
Guarding their artless minds against temptation,
And lead them to become, through industry,
Good, useful members of society.
Which gushes from, Affliction's languid eye;
The widow's heart to cheer, her wrongs redress,
And be the mother of the parentless;
Snatch them from vice, or poverty's abode,
And consecrate their orphan lives to God.
Not by immuring them in gloomy cells,
Where palsied fear or superstition dwells;
But teaching them the duties of their station,
Guarding their artless minds against temptation,
And lead them to become, through industry,
Good, useful members of society.
These are our rights—these rights, who dares dispute
Let him speak now.—No answer—what—all mute?
But soft, methinks some discontented fair
Cries—“These are duties, Miss.”—Agreed, they are;
But know you not that woman's proper sphere
Is the domestic walk? To interfere
With politics, divinity, or law,
As much deserved ridicule would draw
On woman, as the learned, grave divine,
Cooking the soup on which he means to dine;
Or formal judge, the winders at his knee,
Preparing silk to work embroidery.
Let him speak now.—No answer—what—all mute?
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Cries—“These are duties, Miss.”—Agreed, they are;
But know you not that woman's proper sphere
Is the domestic walk? To interfere
With politics, divinity, or law,
As much deserved ridicule would draw
On woman, as the learned, grave divine,
Cooking the soup on which he means to dine;
Or formal judge, the winders at his knee,
Preparing silk to work embroidery.
Domestic duty—oh how blest are we!
All women are not so—for we are free,
Those duties to perform in every station;
While the poor women of the eastern nation,
Shut from society—hard, hard their case is,
Forbid to walk abroad, or show their faces;
From every care, from thought, and duty free,
Live lives of listless inactivity.
Live, do I say? No, I'm mistaken there;
'Tis vegetating like the gay paterre,
Where tulips, roses, pinks, allure the eye,
Expand their leaves, to be admir'd, and die.
All women are not so—for we are free,
Those duties to perform in every station;
While the poor women of the eastern nation,
Shut from society—hard, hard their case is,
Forbid to walk abroad, or show their faces;
From every care, from thought, and duty free,
Live lives of listless inactivity.
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'Tis vegetating like the gay paterre,
Where tulips, roses, pinks, allure the eye,
Expand their leaves, to be admir'd, and die.
While skill'd thus to improve life's active powers,
How great, how blest a privilege is ours!
While laudably employ'd, all men respect us:
Oppress'd, we've fathers, brothers to protect us;
And are we orphans? orphans never crave,
In vain, protection from the good and brave.
Then ever let it be our pride, ye fair,
To merit their protection, love, and care;
With useful knowledge be our heads well stor'd,
While in our hearts we every virtue hoard.
These rights we may assert, and tho' thought common,
These, and these only, are the Rights of Woman.
How great, how blest a privilege is ours!
While laudably employ'd, all men respect us:
Oppress'd, we've fathers, brothers to protect us;
And are we orphans? orphans never crave,
In vain, protection from the good and brave.
Then ever let it be our pride, ye fair,
To merit their protection, love, and care;
With useful knowledge be our heads well stor'd,
While in our hearts we every virtue hoard.
These rights we may assert, and tho' thought common,
These, and these only, are the Rights of Woman.
| Miscellaneous poems | |