The Fortunes of Faith or, Church and State. A Poem by Thomas Hornblower Gill |
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THE
RIGHTS AND GLORY
OF
WOMAN. |
 | The Fortunes of Faith |  |
137
THE RIGHTS AND GLORY OF WOMAN.
139
Can Woman love, yet discontent profess?
Can Woman smile, yet talk of powerlessness?
Know half her heart, yet deem such knowledge nought?
Think worthily, nor prize the imperial thought?
Look through her own full depths, and there descry
The royal residence of Purity—
Yes! feel her heart the holiest shrine save One,
That eager Worship loves and grows upon;
Yet call on justice? yet for glory sigh?
Yet weep the woful weight of tyranny?
And careless of her proper wealth, complain
That Man is master in his own domain?
Can Woman smile, yet talk of powerlessness?
Know half her heart, yet deem such knowledge nought?
Think worthily, nor prize the imperial thought?
Look through her own full depths, and there descry
The royal residence of Purity—
Yes! feel her heart the holiest shrine save One,
That eager Worship loves and grows upon;
Yet call on justice? yet for glory sigh?
Yet weep the woful weight of tyranny?
And careless of her proper wealth, complain
That Man is master in his own domain?
140
Would Woman madly deal with God's great plan,
Pretend identity of lot with Man,
Grope o'er the path that shines for him alone,
Distract him on his way, and lose her own?
In search of equal rights discover strife,
And spoil the holy melody of Life?—
Derange the strings whose varying tones agree
To breathe one full, surpassing harmony,
Ring out confusion, Earth's best music mar,
And force upon the world an endless jar?
Pretend identity of lot with Man,
Grope o'er the path that shines for him alone,
Distract him on his way, and lose her own?
In search of equal rights discover strife,
And spoil the holy melody of Life?—
Derange the strings whose varying tones agree
To breathe one full, surpassing harmony,
Ring out confusion, Earth's best music mar,
And force upon the world an endless jar?
Can Woman thanklessly esteem a wrong
The kind diversity that makes her strong?
Man loves in Woman the contrasted fate—
The tear, the smile, he cannot imitate,
The soft, pure light, his duller heart must want,
The grace of which his strength is ignorant!
These plead her cause with eloquent effect;
Man feels the magic of the dialect;—
Her helpless modesty the master-spell!
Her tender weakness all-invincible!
The kind diversity that makes her strong?
Man loves in Woman the contrasted fate—
The tear, the smile, he cannot imitate,
The soft, pure light, his duller heart must want,
The grace of which his strength is ignorant!
These plead her cause with eloquent effect;
Man feels the magic of the dialect;—
Her helpless modesty the master-spell!
Her tender weakness all-invincible!
141
What charm does Woman's native region want?
Why tempts she fortune as an emigrant?
How sweet her dwelling in the happy vale!
How winged with health the fragrance of the gale!
Surprising folly! that would drive her hence
To climb a rough and sultry eminence,
Provoke the native life in vigour there,
And droop and dwindle in the unkindly air,
Transplant the sweetness where it will not live,
And all the glory to corruption give:—
Expose the verdant tenderness to fade
In life's dry heat, for want of shower and shade,—
Invite the fair, bright purity to trust
For kindly keeping to the world's thick dust,—
Allure some sordid sweat from Gain's hot press
To spoil the self-abjuring holiness,—
And call upon the full, o'erflowing heart
With all its sweet magnificence to part!
Why tempts she fortune as an emigrant?
How sweet her dwelling in the happy vale!
How winged with health the fragrance of the gale!
Surprising folly! that would drive her hence
To climb a rough and sultry eminence,
Provoke the native life in vigour there,
And droop and dwindle in the unkindly air,
Transplant the sweetness where it will not live,
And all the glory to corruption give:—
Expose the verdant tenderness to fade
In life's dry heat, for want of shower and shade,—
Invite the fair, bright purity to trust
For kindly keeping to the world's thick dust,—
Allure some sordid sweat from Gain's hot press
To spoil the self-abjuring holiness,—
And call upon the full, o'erflowing heart
With all its sweet magnificence to part!
O Woman! Woman! is this folly thine?
For Man's rough labour does thy softness pine,
Life's fiercer struggle view with longing eye,
And envy Faction all its misery?
Ah! mark the price thy envy has to pay!
Man's feeble Rival soon must fall his Prey.
What! scornest thou thy own good sword and shield
To snatch at weapons which thou canst not wield,
Forsake thy fast, impregnable defence,
And abdicate thy sweet omnipotence?
Oh! swell not rashly the front ranks of Life,
But, like fair Sabine virtue, part the strife,
Compel the charm-won, vanquished War to cease,
And speed, the Angel of the meek-eyed Peace!
For Man's rough labour does thy softness pine,
142
And envy Faction all its misery?
Ah! mark the price thy envy has to pay!
Man's feeble Rival soon must fall his Prey.
What! scornest thou thy own good sword and shield
To snatch at weapons which thou canst not wield,
Forsake thy fast, impregnable defence,
And abdicate thy sweet omnipotence?
Oh! swell not rashly the front ranks of Life,
But, like fair Sabine virtue, part the strife,
Compel the charm-won, vanquished War to cease,
And speed, the Angel of the meek-eyed Peace!
Kind Beauty once her kindling presence lent
To grateful Valour in the tournament,
Determined fortune with her potent eye,
And smiled the champion on to victory!
Yet on this glory gone no grief be spent:
The world is but a sterner tournament.
Brave Virtue strives, the noblest champion there;
No holy help let gazing Beauty spare!
Yes! may she follow Virtue through the field,
Repair its shivered spear, its broken shield!
Her trustful look each coming terror stop,
On every wound her tearful balm fast drop,
New prowess give her smiles their meet reply,
And Victor-Virtue thank its bright ally!
To grateful Valour in the tournament,
Determined fortune with her potent eye,
And smiled the champion on to victory!
143
The world is but a sterner tournament.
Brave Virtue strives, the noblest champion there;
No holy help let gazing Beauty spare!
Yes! may she follow Virtue through the field,
Repair its shivered spear, its broken shield!
Her trustful look each coming terror stop,
On every wound her tearful balm fast drop,
New prowess give her smiles their meet reply,
And Victor-Virtue thank its bright ally!
O Woman! what is more to Heaven akin?
The outward beauty sanctified within—
Words of chief price from lips that most invite,—
The soft, bright eye, a lamp of holy light,—
No ray of loveliness extinct or dull,—
Form, face, mind, heart and soul, all beautiful!
The spirit, as its dwelling, bright and fair,
Both richly sweet, both nobly regular!
The outward beauty sanctified within—
Words of chief price from lips that most invite,—
The soft, bright eye, a lamp of holy light,—
No ray of loveliness extinct or dull,—
Form, face, mind, heart and soul, all beautiful!
The spirit, as its dwelling, bright and fair,
Both richly sweet, both nobly regular!
Thus Woman, dares fond Trust interpret thee;
Approve the interpreter's fidelity,
Acquit of folly the admiring sense,
Nor disappoint the pious reverence.
Rest safe and glorious on the holy ground,
Nor scare the multitudes that kneel around;
Refuse to venture out 'mid Life's rude stir,
Nor make a rival of each worshipper!
Approve the interpreter's fidelity,
144
Nor disappoint the pious reverence.
Rest safe and glorious on the holy ground,
Nor scare the multitudes that kneel around;
Refuse to venture out 'mid Life's rude stir,
Nor make a rival of each worshipper!
But yet presume not to affront the sky,
Nor wish our reverence idolatry;
Yield, yield to God! O! spare the Master-Love,
Nor stop all entrance for the light above!
Yes! help the soul to trim its holy light
And keep the temple more divinely bright!
Thus nobly, Woman, thy command declare!
Thus sweetly, loftily, thy glory wear!
God will exalt his deputy in thee,
And Man enjoy thy gracious potency!
Nor wish our reverence idolatry;
Yield, yield to God! O! spare the Master-Love,
Nor stop all entrance for the light above!
Yes! help the soul to trim its holy light
And keep the temple more divinely bright!
Thus nobly, Woman, thy command declare!
Thus sweetly, loftily, thy glory wear!
God will exalt his deputy in thee,
And Man enjoy thy gracious potency!
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