Woman's Voice

by Unknown

To childish whims, while great hopes lie like smould’ring fires

Within our brains, or burst distorted from some weak, unguarded point,

Leaving ruin and anguish in their track. With woman bound, the whole world’s out of joint,

For women are the mothers of the race. We cannot boast

Of natural rights, of liberty, while mothers of the host

Must know they’re classed in common law with idiots and slaves,

Must stand aside with criminals, with imbeciles and knaves.

The sturdy sons nursed at their breast cannot be wholly free,

For what the mother is, the child will in a measure be.

You are not granting Favor when you give us equal power;