TO WOMAN.
Oh thou ! by heav'n ordain'd to be
Arbitress of man's destiny !
From thy sweet lip one tender sigh,
One glance from thine approving eye,
Can raise or bend him at thy will,
To virtue's noblest nights, or worst extremes of ill '.
Be angel minded! and despise
Thy sex's little vanities;
And let not passion's lawless tide
Thy better purpose sweep aside;
For woe awaits the evil hour,
That tends to man's annoy thy heav'n entrusted power.
Woman! 'tis thine to cleanse his heart
From every gross, unholy part;
Thine, in domestic solitude,
To win him to be wise and good;
His pattern, guide, and friend, to be,
To give him back the heaven he forfeited for thee.
Cease, every joy, to glimmer on my mind,
But leave—oh ! leave, the light of Hope behind!
What though my winged hours of bliss have been,
Like angel-visits, few and far b.tween!
Her musing mood shall every pang appease,
And charm—when pleasures lose the power to please !
Campbell.
