by Thomas Moore
'Twas in the fair Aspasia's bower
That Love and Learning many an hour
In dalliance met; and Learning smiled
With rapture on the playful child,
Who frequently stole to find his nest
Within a fold of Learning's vest.
There, as the listening statesman hung
In transport on Aspasia's tongue,
The destinies of Athens took
Their colour from Aspasia's look.
Oh happy time! when laws of state,
When all that ruled the country's fate,
Its glory, quiet, or alarms,
Was plann'd between two snowy arms!
Sweet times! you could not always last --
And yet, oh! yet you are not past;
Though we have lost the sacred mould
In which their men were cast of old,
Woman, dear woman, still the same,
While lips are balm and looks are flame,
While man possesses heart or eyes,
Woman's bright empire never dies!
Fanny, my love, they ne'er shall say,
That beauty's charm hath pass'd away;
No -- give the universe a soul
Attuned to woman's soft control,
And Fanny hath the charm, the skill,
To wield a universe at will!
Source:The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore.
Copyright undated, very old
The Walter Scott Publishing Co. Ltd.