Woman

The picture that this world presents From woman gets its tints and scents: She is the lyre that can impart Pathos and warmth to human heart.

Her handful clay is superior far To Pleiades that so higher are For every man with knowledge vast, Like gem out of her cask is cast.

Like Plato can not hold discourse, Nor can with thunderous voice declaim: But Plato was a spark that broke From her fire that blazed like flame.