WOMAN.

Not faultless, for she was not fashioned so,

A mingling of the bitter and the sweet;

Lips that can laugh and sigh and whisper low

Of hope and trust and happiness complete,

Or speak harsh truths; eyes that can flash with fire,

Or make themselves but wells of tenderness

Wherein is drowned all bitterness and ire —

Warm eyes whose lightest glance is a caress.

Heaven sent her here to brighten this old earth,

And only heaven fully knows her worth.