"ARE WOMEN FAIR?"

"ARE women fair?" Ay! wondrous fair to see too.
"Are women sweet?" Yea, passing sweet they be too;
Most fair and sweet to them that only love them;
Chaste and discreet to all save those that prove them.

"Are women wise?" Not wise, but they be witty. "Are women witty?" Yea, the more the pity; They are so witty, and in wit so wily,

That be you ne'er so wise, they will beguile ye.

"Are women fools?" Not fools, but fondlings many.
Can women found be faithful unto any?"
When snow-white swans do turn to color sable,
Then women fond will be both firm and stable.

66

Are women saints?" No saints, nor yet no devils.
"Are women good?" Not good, but needful evils;
So Angel-like, that devils I do not doubt them;
So needful evils, that few can live without them.

"Are women proud?" Ay! passing proud, and praise them. "Are women kind?" Ay! wondrous kind and please them, Or so imperious, no man can endure them, Or so kind-hearted, any may procure them.

Francis Davison (?) [fl. 1602]

A STRONG HAND

TENDER-HANDED stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a lad of mettle,

And it soft as silk remains:

So it is with these fair creatures,
Use them kindly, they rebel;
But be rough as nutmeg graters,
And the rogues obey you well.

Aaron Hill [1685-1750]

The Fair Circassian

1903

WOMEN'S LONGING

From "Women Pleased"

TELL me what is that only thing
For which all women long;
Yet, having what they most desire,
To have it does them wrong?

"Tis not to be chaste, nor fair,
(Such gifts malice may impair),
Richly trimmed, to walk or ride,
Or to wanton unespied,
To preserve an honest name
And so to give it up to fame-
These are toys. In good or ill
They desire to have their will:

Yet, when they have it, they abuse it,
For they know not how to use it.

John Fletcher [1579-1625]

TRIOLET

ALL women born are so perverse

No man need boast their love possessing.
If naught seem better, nothing's worse:
All women born are so perverse.

From Adam's wife, that proved a curse,
Though God had made her for a blessing,
All women born are so perverse

No man need boast their love possessing.
Robert Bridges [1844-

THE FAIR CIRCASSIAN

FORTY Viziers saw I go

Up to the Seraglio,

Burning, each and every man,

For the fair Circassian.

Ere the morn had disappeared,
Every Vizier wore a beard;
Ere the afternoon was born,
Every Vizier came back shorn.

"Let the man that woos to win

Woo with an unhairy chin;"

Thus she said, and as she bid

Each devoted Vizier did.

From the beards a cord she made;

Looped it to the balustrade,
Glided down and went away
To her own Circassia.

When the Sultan heard, waxed he
Somewhat wroth, and presently
In the noose themselves did lend
Every Vizier did suspend.

Sages all, this rhyme who read,
Guard your beards with prudent heed,

And beware the wily plans

Of the fair Circassians.

Richard Garnett (1835-1906]

THE FEMALE PHAETON

THUS Kitty, beautiful and young,

And wild as colt untamed,

Bespoke the fair from whence she sprung,

With little rage inflamed:

Inflamed with

rage at sad restraint,

Which wise mamma ordained; And sorely vexed to play the saint,

Whilst wit and beauty reigned:

"Shall I thumb holy books, confined
With Abigails, forsaken?
Kitty's for other things designed,

Or I am much mistaken.

The Lure

"Must Lady Jenny frisk about,
And visit with her cousins?

At balls must she make all the rout,
And bring home hearts by dozens?

"What has she better, pray, than I,
What hidden charms to boast,
That all mankind for her should die,
Whilst I am scarce a toast?

"Dearest mamma! for once let me,
Unchained, my fortune try;
I'll have my earl as well as she,
Or know the reason why.

"I'll soon with Jenny's pride quit score,

Make all her lovers fall:

They'll grieve I was not loosed before;
She, I was loosed at all."

Fondness prevailed, mamma gave way;

Kitty, at heart's desire,

Obtained the chariot for a day,

And set the world on fire.

1905

Matthew Prior [1664-1721]

THE LURE

"WHAT bait do you use," said a Saint to the Devil,
"When you fish where the souls of men abound?"
"Well, for special tastes," said the King of Evil,
"Gold and Fame are the best I've found."

"But for general use?" asked the Saint. "Ah, then," Said the Demon, "I angle for Man, not men,

And a thing I hate

Is to change my bait,

So I fish with a woman the whole year round."

John Boyle O'Reilly [1844-1890]

THE BALLAD OF CASSANDRA BROWN

THOUGH I met her in the summer, when one's heart lies round at ease,

As it were in tennis costume, and a man's not hard to please, Yet I think at any season to have met her was to love, While her tones, unspoiled, unstudied, had the softness of the dove.

At request she read us poems in a nook among the pines, And her artless voice lent music to the least melodious

lines;

Though she lowered her shadowing lashes, in an earnest reader's wise,

Yet we caught blue gracious glimpses of the heavens that were her eyes.

As in paradise I listened. Ah, I did not understand

That a little cloud, no larger than the average human hand,

Might, as stated oft in fiction, spread into a sable pall, When she said that she should study Elocution in the fall!

I admit her earliest efforts were not in the Ercles vein; She began with "Lit-tle Maaybel, with her faayce against the payne

And the beacon-light a-t-r-r-remble"-which, although it made me wince,

Is a thing of cheerful nature to the things she's rendered since.

Having learned the Soulful Quiver, she acquired the Melting Mo-o-an,

And the way she gave "Young Grayhead" would have liquefied a stone.

Then the Sanguinary Tragic did her energies employ,

And she tore my taste to tatters when she slew "The Polish Boy."