Lincoln Telegraph

POETRY.

FOR THE TELEGRAPH.

WOMAN.

"Where is the man that has the power and skill
To stem the torrent of a woman's will?
For if she will, she will, you may depend on't;
And if she won't, she won't, and there's an end on't."

Ay, so it is, and e'er hath been
From fair Rebecca's day,
That woman will her aims attain,
What e'er obstructs the way.

Man, soi-disant creation's lord,
Seeks to outwit in vain
Creation's better half—but when
Could he th' ascendant gain?

The 'weaker vessels' they are called—
And so, perhaps, they are;
But strength alone will not avail
In council or in war.

The stupid ox in strength exceeds
His master,—shall we then
Revere the hardy, vigorous beast,
And scorn the feebler man?

If not, why should man's haughty soul
Regard himself so high?
His weak but reasoning sisterhood
View with contemptuous eye?

In deep and well laid plans and schemes
Frail womankind excels—
And every day's experience
Their sure performance tells.

Not by low cunning and deceit,
Doth she her purpose gain:-
She leaves to those who lack her power,
Such means the end to attain.

For want of strength she is supplied
With a superior skin,
To which she adds, as all may know.
A fixed, determined will.

As well might ye, proud lords of earth.
With cords, attempt to bind
To whate'er point best pleases you,
The restless, wayward wind,

As to subdue a woman's soul—
She may appear to bow,
But there are deep, quick thoughts beneath
The calmness of her brow.

Rest then content, and be assured
Ye cannot match her skill:
For, spite of all your boast, ye know
That if she will, she will.

BOADICEA.

Bath, 6th mo, 20th day, 1840.