True genius, but true woman! dost deny Thy woman's nature with a manly scorn And break away the gauds and armlets worn By weaker women in captivity? Ah, vain denial! that revolted cry Is sobbed in by a woman's voice forlorn— Thy woman's hair, my sister, all unshorn Floats back dishevelled strength in agony
Disproving thy man's name: and while before The world thou burnest in a poet-fire, We see thy woman-heart beat evermore Through the large flame. Beat purer, heart, and higher, Till God uns** thee on the heavenly shore, Where unincarnate spirits purely aspire!