• THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN, Anna Laetitia Barbauld

Yes, injured Woman! rise, assert thy right!

Woman! too long degraded, scorned, opprest;

O born to rule in partial Law's despite,

Resume thy native empire o'er the breast!

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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.

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Go, gird thyself with grace; collect thy store

Of bright artillery glancing from afar;

Soft melting tones thy thundering cannon's roar,

Blushes and fears thy magazine of war.

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Thy rights are empire: urge no meaner claim,—

Felt, not defined, and if debated, lost;

Like sacred mysteries, which withheld from fame,

Shunning discussion, are revered the most.

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Try all that 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.

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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.

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But hope not, courted idol of mankind,

On this proud eminence secure to stay;

Subduing and subdued, thou soon shalt find

Thy coldness soften, and thy pride give way.

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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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• Imagem: Janet Zeugner