“Woman! though framed in weakness, ever yet
Her heart reigns mistress of man’s varied mind.
And she will follow where that heart is set
As roll the waves before the settled wind.
Her soul is feminine nor can forget—
To all except love’s image, fondly blind.
And she can e’en survive love’s fading dim,
And bear with life, to love and pray for him!”
It was an odd thing to see this compelling figure, standing in the midst of these monkish roisterers, all in celibate robes and beads, declaiming lines of such passionate beauty and in a voice flexible and appealing. An odd toast to drink from such a goblet!
“Man’s love is of man’s life a thing apart,