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" The world was sad !- the garden was a wild!
And man, the hermit, sighed -- till woman smiled."
13 TREMONT ROW.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860,
BY GEORGE COOLIDGE, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
Electrotyped at the
Daarell & Moure, Printers, Boston.
POEMS OF WOMANHOOD.
A WOMAN'S QUESTION.
BEFORE I trust my fate to thee,
Or place my hand in thine,
Color and form to mine,
I break all slighter bonds, nor feel
A shadow of regret ;
That holds thy spirit yet?
Does there within thy dimmest dreams
A possible future shine, Wherein thy life could henceforth breathe,
Untouched, unshared by mine? If so, at any pain or cost, 0, tell me before all is lost.
Look deeper still. If thou canst feel
Within thy inmost soul
While I have staked the whole,
Is there within thy heart a need
That mine cannot fulfil ?
Could better wake or still?
Lives there within thy nature hid
The demon-spirit Change, Shedding a passing glory still
On all things new and strange? It
may not be thy fault alone But shield my heart against thy own.
Couldst thou withdraw thy hand one day
And answer to my claim,
Not thou had been to blame? Some soothe their conscience thus ; but thon0, surely thou wilt warn me now.
Nay, answer not- I dare not hear
The words would come too late;
So comfort thee, my Fate;
HAVE I not told thee that my heart shall be Faithful forever unto love and thee?
This promise was not idly spoken: It hath a meaning, and the angels know That let the crown of life be joy or woe,
It never shall be broken!
By every impulse that the heart holds dear, By all the sweet incentives to devotion,
By Virtue's melancholy tear
And promise thee