Praise of Little Women

I wish to make my preaching short, as all good things should be, For I was always fond, I own, of a short homily; Of little women, and in courts of law a most brief plea; Little well said makes wise, as sap most fructifies the tree.

His head who laughs and chatters much, the moon I'm sure must sway, There's in a little woman love—nor little, let me say; Some very tall there are, but I prefer the little,—nay, Change them, they'd both repent the change, and quarrel night and day.

Love prayed me to speak well of all the little ones—the zest They give, their noble qualities, and charms:—I'll do my best; I will speak of the little ones, but don't think I'm in jest; That they are cold as snow, and warm as fire, is manifest.

They're cold abroad, yet warm in love; shy creatures in the street; Good-natured, laughing, witty, gay, and in the house discreet,— Well-doing, graceful, gentle, kind, and many things more sweet You'll find where you direct your thoughts,—yes, many I repeat.

Within a little compass oft great splendour strikes the eyes, In a small piece of sugar-cane a deal of sweetness lies; So to a little woman's face a thousand graces rise, And large and sweet's her love; a word's sufficient for the wise.

The pepper-corn is small, but yet, the more the grain you grind, The more it warms and comforts; so, were I to speak my mind, A little woman, if (all love) she studies to be kind, There's not in all the world a bliss you'll fail in her to find.

As in a little rose resides great colour, as the bell Of the small lily yields a great and most delightful smell, As in a very little gold exists a precious spell, Within a little woman so exceeding flavours dwell.

As the small ruby is a gem that clearly does outshine For lustre, colour, virtues, price, most children of the mine, In little women so worth, grace, bloom, radiancy divine, Wit, beauty, loyalty, and love, transcendently combine.

Little's the lark, the nightingale is little, yet they sing Sweeter than birds of greater size and more resplendent wing; So little women better are, by the same rule,—they bring A love more sweet than sugar-plums or primroses of spring.

The goldfinch and Canary-bird, all finches and all pies, Sing, scream, or chatter passing well—there's quaintness in their cries; The brilliant little paroquet says things extremely wise; Just such a little woman is, when she sweet love outsighs.

There's nothing that with her should be compared—'tis profanation;— She is a walking Paradise, a smiling consolation, A blessing, pleasure, of all joys a sparkling constellation, In fact—she's better in the proof than in the salutation!

Small women do no harm, kind things, though they may sometimes call Us angry names, hard to digest; men wise as was Saint Paul Say, of two evils choose the least,—by this rule it must fall, The least dear woman you can find will be the best of all!