Page:Aurora Leigh a Poem.djvu/25

16 The hearer’s soul through hurricanes of notes To a noisy Tophet; and I drew. . costumes From French engravings, nereids neatly draped, With smirks of simmering godship,—I washed in From nature, landscapes, (rather say, washed out.) I danced the polka and Cellarius, Spun glass, stuffed birds, and modelled flowers in wax, Because she liked accomplishments in girls. I read a score of books on womanhood To prove, if women do not think at all, They may teach thinking, (to a maiden aunt Or else the author)—books demonstrating Their right of comprehending husband’s talk When not too deep, and even of answering With pretty ‘may it please you,’ or ‘so it is,’— Their rapid insight and fine aptitude, Particular worth and general missionariness, As long as they keep quiet by the fire And never say ‘no’ when the world says ‘ay,’ For that is fatal,—their angelic reach Of virtue, chiefly used to sit and darn, And fatten household sinners—their, in brief, Potential faculty in everything Of abdicating power in it: she owned She liked a woman to be womanly, And English women, she thanked God and sighed, (Some people always sigh in thanking God) Were models to the universe. And last I learnt cross-stitch, because she did not like To see me wear the night with empty hands,