Thy rights are empire: urge no meaner claim,� Felt, not defined, and if debated, lost; 15 Like sacred mysteries, which withheld from fame, Shunning discussion, are revered the most.
Try all that wit and art suggest to bend Of thy imperial foe the stubborn knee; Make treacherous Man thy subject, not thy friend;
20 Thou mayst command, but never canst be free.
Awe the licentious, and restrain the rude; Soften the sullen, clear the cloudy brow: Be, more than princes' gifts, thy favours sued;� She hazards all, who will the least allow.
25 But hope not, courted idol of mankind, On this proud eminence secure to stay; Subduing and subdued, thou soon shalt find Thy coldness soften, and thy pride give way.
Then, then, abandon each ambitious thought, 30 Conquest or rule thy heart shall feebly move,
1. A response�seemingly favorable until the last ers" as evidence that even women of sense were two stanzas�to Mary Wollstonecraft's A Vindica-capable of adopting the masculine-centered gention of the Rights of Woman (1792). In chapter 4 der code that identified the feminine with the ornaof Vindication, Wollstonecraft had singled out Bar-mental and the frivolous. bauld's poem "To a Lady with Some Painted Flow
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36 / ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD
In Nature's school, by her soft maxims taught, That separate rights are lost in mutual love.
ca. 1792-95 1825
To a Little Invisible Being Who Is Expected Soon to Become Visible
Germ of new life, whose powers expanding slow For many a moon their full perfection wait,� Haste, precious pledge of happy love, to go Auspicious borne through life's mysterious gate.
s What powers lie folded in thy curious frame,� Senses from objects locked, and mind from thought! How little canst thou guess thy lofty claim To grasp at all the worlds the Almighty wrought!
And see, the genial season's warmth to share,
io Fresh younglings" shoot, and opening roses glow! young plants Swarms of new life exulting fill the air,� Haste, infant bud of being, haste to blow!0 bloom
For thee the nurse prepares her lulling songs, The eager matrons count the lingering day; 15 But far the most thy anxious parent longs On thy soft cheek a mother's kiss to lay.
She only asks to lay her burden down, That her glad arms that burden may resume; And nature's sharpest pangs her wishes crown,
20 That free thee living from thy living tomb.
She longs to fold to her maternal breast Part of herself, yet to herself unknown; To see and to salute the stranger guest, Fed with her life through many a tedious moon.
25 Come, reap thy rich inheritance of love! Bask in the fondness of a Mother's eye! Nor wit nor eloquence her heart shall move Like the first accents of thy feeble cry.
Haste, little captive, burst thy prison doors!
30 Launch on the living world, and spring to light! Nature for thee displays her various stores, Opens her thousand inlets of delight.
If charmed verse or muttered prayers had power, With favouring spells to speed thee on thy way,
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WASHING-DAY / 37
35 Anxious I'd bid my beads0 each passing hour, offer a prayer Till thy wished smile thy mother's pangs o'erpay.0 more than compensate ca. 1795? 1825
Washing-Day
. . . and their voice, Turning again towards childish treble, pipes And whistles in its sound.1
The Muses are turned gossips; they have lost The buskined0 step, and clear high-sounding phrase, tragic, elevated Language of gods. Come then, domestic Muse, In slipshod measure loosely prattling on
5 Of farm or orchard, pleasant curds and cream, Or drowning flies, or shoe lost in the mire By little whimpering boy, with rueful face; Come, Muse; and sing the dreaded Washing-Day. Ye who beneath the yoke of wedlock bend,
10 With bowed soul, full well ye ken� the day know Which week, smooth sliding after week, brings on Too soon;�for to that day nor peace belongs Nor comfort;�ere the first gray streak of dawn, The red-armed washers come and chase repose,
is Nor pleasant smile, nor quaint device of mirth, E'er visited that day: the very cat, From the wet kitchen scared, and reeking hearth, Visits the parlour,�an unwonted0 guest. unaccustomed The silent breakfast-meal is soon dispatched;
20 Uninterrupted, save by anxious looks Cast at the lowering sky, if sky should lower. From that last evil, O preserve us, heavens! For should the skies pour down, adieu to all Remains of quiet: then expect to hear
25 Of sad disasters,�dirt and gravel stains Hard to efface, and loaded lines at once Snapped short,�and linen-horse0 by dog thrown down, drying rack And all the petty miseries of life. Saints have been calm while stretched upon the rack,
30 And Guatimozin2 smiled on burning coals; But never yet did housewife notable Greet with a smile a rainy washing-day. �But grant the welkin0 fair, require not thou sky Who call'st thyself perchance the master there,
35 Or study swept or nicely dusted coat, Or usual 'tendance;�ask not, indiscreet, Thy stockings mended, though the yawning rents Gape wide as Erebus;0 nor hope to find the underworld
1. Looselv quoted from Shakespeare's As You Like who was tortured and executed by the Spanish It 2.7.160-62. conquistadors. 2. The last Aztec emperor (Cuanht^moc, d. 1525),
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3 8 / ANN A LETITI A BARBAUL D Some snug recess impervious: shouldst thou try 40 The 'customed garden walks, thine eye shall rue The budding fragrance of thy tender shrubs, Myrtle or rose, all crushed beneath the weight Of coarse checked apron,�with impatient hand Twitched off when showers impend: or crossing lines 45 Shall mar thy musings, as the wet cold sheet Flaps in thy face abrupt. Woe to the friend Whose evil stars have urged him forth to claim On such a day the hospitable rites! Looks, blank at best, and stinted courtesy, 50 Shall he receive. Vainly he feeds his hopes With dinner of roast chicken, savoury pie, Or tart or pudding:�pudding he nor tart That day shall eat; nor, though the husband try, Mending what can't be helped, to kindle mirth 55 From cheer deficient, shall his consort's brow Clear up propitious:�the unlucky guest In silence dines, and early slinks away. I well remember, when a child, the awe This day struck into me; for then the maids, 60 I scarce knew why, looked cross, and drove me from them; Nor soft caress could I obtain, nor hope Usual indulgencies; jelly or creams, Relic of costly suppers, and set by For me, their petted one; or buttered toast, 65 When butter was forbid; or thrilling tale Of ghost or witch, or murder�so I went And sheltered me beside the parlour fire: There my dear grandmother, eldest of forms, Tended the little ones, and watched from harm, 70 Anxiously fond, though oft her spectacles With elfin cunning hid, and oft the pins Drawn from her ravelled stocking, might have soured One less indulgent.� At intervals my mother's voice was heard, 75 Urging dispatch: briskly the work went on, All hands employed to wash, to rinse, to wring, To fold, and starch, and clap,0 and iron, and plait. flatten Then would I sit me down, and ponder much Why washings were. Sometimes through hollow bowl so Of pipe amused we blew, and sent aloft The floating bubbles; little dreaming then To see, Mongolfier,3 thy silken ball Ride buoyant through the clouds�so near approach The sports of children and the toils of men. 85 Earth, air, and sky, and ocean, hath its bubbles,4 And verse is one of them�this most of all. 1797