IN A THOUSAND YEARS.
(A WOMAN’S DREAM OF THE FUTURE.)
’Twill be all the same in a thousand years!
What a terrible line this, to draw out the tears.
Oh, how oft do I weep at the dance, or the play,
O’er the sorrows we women are doomed to convey;
And can it be so, must we stand at the gate,
Denied all the honors of the country or State?
Our part but to please and obey lordly man;
Be kind when he’s surly, and be sweet as we can;