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WOMANHOOD.

"The world was sad ! – the garden was a wild!

And man, the hermit, sighed -- till woman smiled."

BOSTON:
GEORGE COOLIDO E,
13 TREMONT ROW.

1861.

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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860,

BY GEORGE COOLIDGE, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of

Massachusetts.

Electrotyped at the
BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY.

aiarell & Moure, Priusers, Boston.

POEMS OF WOMANHOOD.

A WOMAN'S QUESTION.

BEFORE I trust my fate to thee,

Or place my hand in thine,
Before I let thy future give

Color and form to mine,
Before I peril all for thee,
Question thy soul to-night for me.

I break all slighter bonds, nor feel

A shadow of regret;
Is there one link within the past

That holds thy spirit yet?
Or is thy faith as clear and free
As that which I can pledge to thee?

Does there within thy dimmest dreams

A possible future shine, Wherein thy life could henceforth breathe,

Untouched, unshared by mine? If so, at any pain or cost, 0, tell me before all is lost.

(3)

Look deeper still. If thou canst feel

Within thy inmost soul
That thou hast kept a portion back,

While I have staked the whole,
Let no false pity spare the blow,
But, in true mercy, tell me so.

Is there within thy heart a need

That mine cannot fulfil ?
One.chord that any other hand

Could better wake or still?
Speak now - lest at some future day
My whole life wither and decay.

Lives there within thy nature hid

The demon-spirit Change,
Shedding a passing glory still

On all things new and strange?
It may not be thy fault alone-
But shield my heart against thy own.

Couldst thou withdraw thy hand one day

And answer to my claim,
That Fate, and that to-day's mistake -

Not thou - had been to blame? Some soothe their conscience thus; but thon0, surely thou wilt warn me now.

Nay, answer not - I dare not hear

The words would come too late ;
Yet I would spare thee all remorse,

So comfort thee, my Fate;
Whatever on my heart may fall —
Remember, I would risk it all.

Miss Procter.

FAITHFUL FOREVER.

HAVE I not told thee that my heart shall be Faithful forever unto love and thee?

This promise was not idly spoken: It hath a meaning, and the angels know That let the crown of life be joy or woe,

It never shall be broken!

Faithful forever
By every sanctified and pure emotion,

By every impulse that the heart holds dear, By all the sweet incentives to devotion,

By Virtue's melancholy tear
That falls when sacred promises are broken,
I bind my honor to the words I've spoken,

And promise thee
That my unwavering heart shall be

Faithful forever!

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