To Mrs. ....... On Some Calumnies Against Her Character.

Is not thy mind a gentle mind? Is not that heart a heart refined? Hast thou not every gentle grace, We love in woman's mind and face? And, oh! art thou a shrine for Sin To hold her hateful worship in? No, no, be happy—dry that tear— Though some thy heart hath harbored near, May now repay its love with blame; Though man, who ought to shield thy fame, Ungenerous man, be first to shun thee; Though all the world look cold upon thee, Yet shall thy pureness keep thee still Unharmed by that surrounding chill; Like the famed drop, in crystal found, Floating, while all was frozen round,— Unchilled unchanging shalt thou be, Safe in thy own sweet purity.