I am a woman—therefore I may not Call to him, cry to him, Fly to him, Bid him delay not. - Richard Watson Gilder

O white and midnight sky, O starry bath,
Wash me in thy pure, heavenly crystal flood:
Cleanse me, ye stars, from earthly soil and scath—
Let not one taint remain in spirit or blood!

From all the misty morning air, there comes a summer sound,—
A murmur as of waters from skies, and trees and ground.
The birds they sing upon the wing, the pigeons bill and coo.

The Smile of her I love is like the dawn
Whose touch makes Memnon sing:
O, see where wide the golden sunlight flows—
The barren desert blossoms as the rose!