Samuel Kettell, ed. Specimens of American Poetry. 1829. Woman
By George P. Morris
A H! 1 womanin this world of ours,
What gift can be compared to thee?
How slow would drag lifes weary hours,
Though mans proud brow were bound with flowers,
And his the wealth of land and sea, 5
If destined to exist alone,
And neer call womans heart his own.
My mother!at that holy name,
Within my bosom theres a gush
Of feeling, which no time can tame, 10
A feeling which, for years of fame,
I would not, could not crush.
And sisters!they are dear as life
But when I look upon my WIFE,
My life-blood gives a sudden rush, 15
And all my fond affections blend,
In mothersisterswifeand friend.
Yes, womans love is free from guile,
And pure as bright Auroras ray
The heart will melt before its smile, 20
And earthly passions fade away.
Were I the monarch of the earth,
And master of the swelling sea,
I would not estimate their worth, Dear woman, half the price of thee. 25
Morris is a native of New York. In 1823, in conjunction with Mr Woodworth, he established a paper in New York, called The New York Mirror and Ladies Literary Gazette; of this he is now the editor. He is the author of a dramatic piece, entitled Brier Cliff. [ Note 1. back]