“What woman is this?” Viktoria Vakser, ‘26

What woman is this? If I look in the glass

I spy no one deserving of such name.

I know my fiery eyes are yet aflame

With some unbridled passion. If— alas!—

If woman be meek, my obstinance outweighs

Any vain fancies that I might be so;

If she be graceful— I’ve yet to outgrow

The carelessness of my impatient ways.

What woman? Nay, I see naught but a child

Who equally gives way to joy and tears;

Whose wisdom gathered o’er her sixteen years

Makes her, at best, half gentle and half wild…

But ne’er there was a girl so fain to learn,

And mend her ways, and thereby Woman earn.