Yes, injured Woman! rise, assert thy right
Woman! too long degraded, scorned, opprest;
O born to rule in partial Law's despite
Resume thy empire o'er the breast !
Go forth arrayed in panoply divine;
That angel pureness which admits no stain;
Go, bid proud Man his boasted rule resign
And kiss the golden scepter of thy reign.
Go, gird thyself with grace; collect thy store
Of bright artillery glancing from afar;
Soft melting tones thy thundering cannon's roar,
Blushes and fairy thy magazine of war.
Thy rights are empire: urge no meaner claim.-
Felt, no defined, and debated, lost;
Like sacred mysteries, which withheld from fame,
Shunning discussion, are revered a most.
Try all what wit and art suggest to bend
Of thy imperial foe the stubborn knee;
Make treacherous Man thy subject, not thy friend;
Thou mayst command, but never canst be free.
Awe the licentious, and restrain the rude;
Soften the sullen, clear the cloudy brow:
Be, more than princes' gifts, thy favors sued;-
She hazards all, who will the least allow.
But hope not, courted idle of mankind,
On this proud eminence secure to stay;
Subduing and subdued, thou soon shalt find
Thy coldness soften, and thy pride give way.
Then, then abandon each ambitious thought,
Conquest or rule thy heart shall feebly move,
In nature's school, by her soft maxims taught,
That separate rights are lost in mutual love.
Woman! too long degraded, scorned, opprest;
O born to rule in partial Law's despite
Resume thy empire o'er the breast !
Go forth arrayed in panoply divine;
That angel pureness which admits no stain;
Go, bid proud Man his boasted rule resign
And kiss the golden scepter of thy reign.
Go, gird thyself with grace; collect thy store
Of bright artillery glancing from afar;
Soft melting tones thy thundering cannon's roar,
Blushes and fairy thy magazine of war.
Thy rights are empire: urge no meaner claim.-
Felt, no defined, and debated, lost;
Like sacred mysteries, which withheld from fame,
Shunning discussion, are revered a most.
Try all what wit and art suggest to bend
Of thy imperial foe the stubborn knee;
Make treacherous Man thy subject, not thy friend;
Thou mayst command, but never canst be free.
Awe the licentious, and restrain the rude;
Soften the sullen, clear the cloudy brow:
Be, more than princes' gifts, thy favors sued;-
She hazards all, who will the least allow.
But hope not, courted idle of mankind,
On this proud eminence secure to stay;
Subduing and subdued, thou soon shalt find
Thy coldness soften, and thy pride give way.
Then, then abandon each ambitious thought,
Conquest or rule thy heart shall feebly move,
In nature's school, by her soft maxims taught,
That separate rights are lost in mutual love.
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