Now let no charitable hope Confuse my mind with images Of eagle and of antelope: I am in nature none of these. I was, being human, born alone; I am, being woman, hard beset; I live by squeezing from a stone The little nourishment I get. In masks outrageous and austere The years go by in single file; But none has merited my fear, And none has quite escaped my smile. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVE SPEAKS by LOUIS UNTERMEYER HOW IT STRIKES A CONTEMPORARY by ROBERT BROWNING THE MARTYRS OF THE MAINE by RUPERT HUGHES THE CROSS OF SNOW by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TRUST IN GOD by NORMAN MACLEOD (1812-1872) THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 90. 'RETRO ME, SATHANA!' by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI PICTURE-SHOW by SIEGFRIED SASSOON |