TO MARIAN.

After reading Schiller's "Gotter Griechenlands."

REGRETTEST thou the days when each object of nature

Whispered to mortals of being divine?

When man, of creation the godliest creature,

Traced to the gods the descent of his line?

Regrettest the ages when Love overflowing

Sprinkled with nectar the coldest of hearts;

And when, all untrammelled by snaky deception

He reigned, disregarding duplicity's arts?

If so, cast a glance o'er the whole of the picture,

And fancy thyself for a moment a Greek,

If then thou art charmed by its strange fascination,

I bid thee to fear not, but openly speak.

A home scarcely better than latter-day hovels,

With chinks in the door for the wind to steal through;

Society worse than is pictured in novels,

Where no one is noble and nothing is true.

And woman herself worshipped only for beauty,

Regarded by man as no more than a slave,

To rear up his children and toil in the household,

With nothing ahead but the peace of the grave.

This was the life women passed at old Athens,

Though men reached the zenith in intellect's sky,

Outshining the world in their art and their reason,

But leaving the women to struggle and die.