I Had A Dream, Which Was Not

Champagne With Its Foaming Whirls/as White As Cleopatra's Pearls.

The Dew Of Compassion Is A Tear.

Talent May Be In Time Forgiven, But Genius Never

That Music In Itself, Whose Sounds Are Song, The Poetry Of Speech.

But As To Women, Who Can Penetrate The Real Sufferings Of Their She Condition? Man's Very Sympathy With Their Estate Has Much Of Selfishness And More Suspicion. Their Love, Their Virtue, Beauty, Education, But Form Good Housekeepers, To Breed A Nation.