English poem
Iv
by R. D. Blackmore (1825–1900)
We trample now the faith of old, We make our Gods of dream and doubt; Yet life is but a tale untold, Without one heart to love, without One hand to hold--
The fairer half of humankind, More gentle, playful, and confiding: Whose soul is not the slave of mind, Whose spirit hath a nobler guiding Than we can find.
So Eve restores the sweeter part Of what herself unwitting stole, And makes the wounded Adam whole; For half the mind is heart.