Page:Poems by Frances Fuller Victor.djvu/65

 It is not that I long to be a wife

By your Athenian laws, and sit at home

Behind a lattice, prisoner for life,

With my lord left at liberty to roam;

Nor is it that I crave the right to be

At the symposium or the Agora known;

My grievance is, that your proud dames to me

Come to be taught, in secret and alone.

They fear—what do they fear? Is't me or you?

Am I not pure as any of them all?

But your laws are against me; and 'tis true,

If fame is lowering, I have had a fall.

O, selfish men of Athens, shall the world

Remember you, and pass my glory by?

Nay, 'til from their proud heights your names are hurled,

Mine shall blaze with them on your Grecian sky.

Am I then boastful? It is half in scorn

Of caring for your love, or for your praise,

As women do, and must. Had I been born

In this proud Athens, I had spent my days

In jealousy of boys, and stolen hours

With some Milesian, of a questioned place,

Learning of her the use of woman's powers

Usurped by men of this patrician race.

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