1184.Let No Charitable Hope - Elinor Wylie

Now let no charitable hope

Confuse my mind with images

Of eagle and of antelope

I am in nature none of these

I am, being human, born alone,

I am, being woman, hard beset,

I live by squeezing a stone

The little nourishment I get.

In masks outrageous and austere

The years go by in single file;

But none has merited my fear,

And none has quite escaped my smile.