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"The Brute that lurks and irks within, How, till you have him gagged and bound, Escape the foulest form of Sin?"
(G.o.d in the Garden laughed and frowned).
"So vile, so rank, the b.e.s.t.i.a.l mood In which the race is bid to be, It wrecks the Rarer Womanhood: Live, therefore, you, for Purity!
"Take for your mate no gallant croup, No girl all grace and natural will: To work her mission were to stoop, Maybe to lapse, from Well to Ill.
Choose one of whom your grosser make"-- (G.o.d in the Garden laughed outright)-- "The true refining touch may take, Till both attain to Life's last height.
"There, equal, purged of soul and sense, Beneficent, high-thinking, just, Beyond the appeal of Violence, Incapable of common l.u.s.t, In mental Marriage still prevail"-- (G.o.d in the Garden hid His face)-- "Till you achieve that Female-Male In which shall culminate the race."
William Ernest Henley [1849-1903]
"NO FAULT IN WOMEN"
No fault in women to refuse The offer which they most would choose: No fault in women to confess How tedious they are in their dress: No fault in women to lay on The tincture of vermilion, And there to give the cheek a dye Of white, where Nature doth deny: No fault in women to make show Of largeness, when they're nothing so; When, true it is, the outside swells With inward buckram, little else: No fault in women, though they be But seldom from suspicion free: No fault in womankind at all, If they but slip, and never fall.
Robert Herrick [1591-1674]
"ARE WOMEN FAIR?"
"Are women fair?" Ay! wondrous fair to see too.
"Are women sweet?" Yea, pa.s.sing sweet they be too; Most fair and sweet to them that only love them; Chaste and discreet to all save those that prove them.
"Are women wise?" Not wise, but they be witty.
"Are women witty?" Yea, the more the pity; They are so witty, and in wit so wily, That be you ne'er so wise, they will beguile ye.
"Are women fools?" Not fools, but fondlings many.
"Can women found be faithful unto any?"
When snow-white swans do turn to color sable, Then women fond will be both firm and stable.
"Are women saints?" No saints, nor yet no devils.
"Are women good?" Not good, but needful evils; So Angel-like, that devils I do not doubt them; So needful evils, that few can live without them.
"Are women proud?" Ay! pa.s.sing proud, and praise them.
"Are women kind?" Ay! wondrous kind and please them, Or so imperious, no man can endure them, Or so kind-hearted, any may procure them.
Francis Davison (?) [fl. 1602]
A STRONG HAND
Tender-handed stroke a nettle, And it stings you for your pains; Grasp it like a lad of mettle, And it soft as silk remains:
So it is with these fair creatures, Use them kindly, they rebel; But be rough as nutmeg graters, And the rogues obey you well.
Aaron Hill [1685-1750]
WOMEN'S LONGING From "Women Pleased"
Tell me what is that only thing For which all women long; Yet, having what they most desire, To have it does them wrong?
'Tis not to be chaste, nor fair, (Such gifts malice may impair), Richly trimmed, to walk or ride, Or to wanton unespied, To preserve an honest name And so to give it up to fame-- These are toys. In good or ill They desire to have their will: Yet, when they have it, they abuse it, For they know not how to use it.
John Fletcher [1579-1625]
TRIOLET
All women born are so perverse No man need boast their love possessing.
If naught seem better, nothing's worse: All women born are so perverse.
From Adam's wife, that proved a curse, Though G.o.d had made her for a blessing, All women born are so perverse No man need boast their love possessing.
Robert Bridges [1844-1930]
THE FAIR CIRCa.s.sIAN
Forty Viziers saw I go Up to the Seraglio, Burning, each and every man, For the fair Circa.s.sian.
Ere the morn had disappeared, Every Vizier wore a beard; Ere the afternoon was born, Every Vizier came back shorn.
"Let the man that woos to win Woo with an unhairy chin;"
Thus she said, and as she bid Each devoted Vizier did.
From the beards a cord she made, Looped it to the bal.u.s.trade, Glided down and went away To her own Circa.s.sia.
When the Sultan heard, waxed he Somewhat wroth, and presently In the noose themselves did lend Every Vizier did suspend.
Sages all, this rhyme who read, Guard your beards with prudent heed, And beware the wily plans Of the fair Circa.s.sians.
Richard Garnett [1835-1906]
THE FEMALE PHAETON
