Let impulse draw
By higher law
And we’ll obey it ever
For man may come, and man may go
But we rush on forever.”
This song with mad applause and frenzied cheer
The crowd received—from which it doth appear,
“Music hath charms to tickle savage ear”
Like storms terrestial, this infernal blow
Died out, and business had some little show.
Above the motley multitude presiding
To give the necessary rule and guiding,
An elephantine beauty coarse and hard,
Of bust colossal, bearded like a bard,
On democratic tripod throned in state,
With visage wisely stolid, stiffly sate.
She first essayed t’evoke, like Homer’s God,
Order from chaos, by traditional nod.
Through some mishap the mighty effort failing
She rose and ’gan the stated song retailing.
Sternly she waved her pasteboard truncheon high,
While frowns the lack of queenly pow’r supply.
Quite heavy was her plaint, beyond compare,
And rendered with a true teutonic air.
“Hail sisters! brothers hail! (if such there be
From pride of sex and vulgar passion free.)
This day when woman first begins to live,
A welcome warm to all her friends I give—
This day, in maidhood’s pure unsullied name
True freedom and equality proclaim.
Here, even here, upon this dirty plank,
With democratic juices foul and rank,
Resurgent truth shall stand with new-born pow’r,
And justice date from hence her natal hour.
The place of birth, so far as I can see,
Gives no complexion to the progeny.
I therefore deem these walls, secure from danger,
As fit for lying-in as any manger.
(Don’t pun the term, nor term it pun—receive it
Accordant with the emphasis I give it.)
Eventful day! destined, if truth succeed,
To be emancipation day indeed!
My soul prophetic glows with inward fire!—
My thoughts to loftier, heav’nlier flights aspire!
I see futurity’s productive womb
Impregnant with our bestial masters’ doom.
With head exalted, upward turning eyes,
Waiting to mount the zenith of the skies,
I see the coming woman where she stands,
On reason’s height, with free unfettered hands
To dark forgetfulness cast all her bands!
Her dress abbreviate, to suit the times,
Displays the fair proportions of her limbs;
While, poised like Ellsler on one dainty toe
She points the other at the crowd below:
Thus showing at one end the bent to soar,
At ’t’other, proper scorn for man, and more.
Since strong desire, ’tis said, hath power still
To work its own fulfillment, through the will,
We soon shall see the sprouting of her wings
And rare development of other things.
Tremble tyrants! no more shall slavish chain
Of sexual love our faculties restrain.
Woman no more shall live like gilded toy,
Your daily solace or your midnight joy.
Each weak, effem’nate grace henceforth we scorn,
And will no more of softer mould be born.
No more will cling like ivy to the oak,
(That horrible tho’ venerated joke,)
No more will coo round man, like petted dove,
To win the sweet amenities of love.—
Nor pay in woman’s anguish and despair
The costly tribute to his fost’ring care.
We’ll grind the curse beneath our conqu’ring heel
And heav’n itself besiege for its repeal.
Let all the list’ning earth attend the hour
When man shall abdicate the throne of pow’r;
When woman shall assume supreme command,
The sceptre of dominion in her hand.
Delicate are we, forsooth! and so weak
Our feebleness must man’s protection seek!
Fine phrases! Jugglers tricks! the gilded pill
Wherewith man chloroforms us to his will.
Look here! Behold my muscle, and then
Decide if women need be slaves to men.
I say ye’re victims to your childish fears
And foolish impulse. Lo, these forty years
I’ve trod the earth the vestal that you see
“In maiden meditation fancy free,”
And never one assailed my vig’rous charms
Or dared adventure in their lusty arms.
If wine ye drink and patronize good cheer
Ye may aspire to such as I appear,
Eat, drink, and act like man, and manly grace
And strength will baby softness soon displace.
And then, in fullness of parturient time,
In some more favored land, some happier clime,
Ah! then, emancipated, disenthralled,
The weaker sex no longer basely called,
Ships we’ll build, delve in mines; with sturdy blow,
Will lay the “monarch of the forest” low:
Quarry huge rocks, exalt the lofty tow’r,
The ocean ride and breast the whirlwind’s pow’r—
The pond’rous train, its head ablaze with light,
We’ll drive, like arrow, shooting through the night—
Tame the wild horse, and charm the tiger’s rage—
With deeds of valor brighten hist’ry’s page,
And triumph o’er the world! So woman’s honor,
Like robe of comfort loose shall hang upon her,
To doff or don, convenient disguise:
So all the world shall stare with wond’ring eyes,
All trifles note, with imbecile surprise;
Just how she wipes her nose, how wears her stocking,
And barely smile when she does something shocking.
Such meed hath earthly fame. But I forbear.
These thema are not for me. Be mine the care
To guide your counsels well. It follows next,
That resolutions—something for a text—
Some “thema” which you may at will discourse on,—
A kind of banneret to centre force on—
Are now in order.”
Thus, her task completed,
The burly dignitary straight was seated.
And while her speech excited some sensation
Her ending fairly shook the whole foundation.
On heated brains, with scattered thought distracted,
The unexpected proposition acted
Like acid into alkali decanted,
Hubbub rousing: Sisters fluttered, paled, panted,
Chattered and squeak’d, in one tremendous frothing,
Yet bound to go the swine complete or nothing.
All, crazed by new responsibility
Skipped to and fro with rare agility,
But nought produced of much utility.
At length, while now the “pop,” not timely tasted,
To stale unpalatable mixture wasted,
In misty distance looming blue and vastly,
Thrust forth her awful visage grim and ghastly,
That spinster prim, Apochryphalia Playgood:
A tall, angular and imperious jade,
Who still, tho’ not in fame what all would say good,
By lucky chance retained the name of maid,
Despite what envious gossips sneering said,
And deemed herself a heav’n appointed agent,
Like bold Joan, to head the gorgeous pageant.
As murky cloud o’er morning’s rosy blush,
Her presence bred a melancholy hush.
She, in her haste to meet the chair’s suggestion,
At first designed to move the previous question;
For reasons twain and good—it first occurred,
And was a potent something, she had heard,
Much lauded in the halls of legislation
For forcing things to speedy termination.
But when one, wiser in her generation,
Opined the monster like to cut debate off,
She vowed she’d “go her death agin it” straight off.
A vetran oft ’gainst “death or victory” pitted,
She countermarched, to common sense remitted
By this snubbing; then from her spacious pocket
Dug up the following immortal docket:
The which, with “hems” by readers always needed
Forwith, to read, she simp’ringly proceeded.
PREAMBLE.
Whereas, a wise mysterious providence
Has summoned us to arms in self-defense—
Has brought us through “perils, flood, and field,”
(In this his wisdom specially revealed)—
Through desert places with few to carry us,
Or guard our virtue, and none to marry us—
Whereas, from man with much upon his hands,
With care of railroads, horses, houses, lands,
With love of smoke and countless fetterments
For us the hope is small of betterments—
Whereas, again, it greatly doth behoove us
To be a-doing lest the Lord removes us
Unprofitable servants from the land
And use less brazen sticks upon his stand,
Or lamps with oil of grace more apropos,
T’ illuminate his earthly temple, so