You know how I came to you,
World beaten, tossed aside;
Ready for death at a hangman's hand,
Stript of all hope or pride.
Leaning, you gathered me up
Close to your great sweet heart,
Lulled me and told me to be a man,
Taught me your wonderful art.
Now I am very wise,
Proud with your love's true vow;
Glorious with power,—I am more than a man,
What will you do with me now!
[THE OLD MAID]
Ah, Heaven! How soon my body will be old!
I powder and I perfume and I tire
With the long wasting of my one desire.
I choose fair colors, furs, and antique gold
To draw men's eyes and hands, and yet how cold,
How careless are their eyes. I see the fire
Flame from my neighbor, and I can aspire
To only friendship. I have tried the bold,
The luring attitude, the timid mien,
The boyish, wise, or simple, all in vain.
I know the women laugh at me, but oh,
How can I let my dreamed perfection go?
I am a woman, I must have a man
Only to ratify my nature's plan.
[MADNESS?]
They say I'm mad because I stare
And look as tho' they were not there,
Because I only speak when aught
Occurs to me by way of thought.
Instead of serving Fashion's creeds,
I cut my coat to fit my needs.
I laugh at grief and only weep
When noisy life disturbs my sleep.