George Sand

True genius, but true woman! dost deny Thy woman’s nature with a manly scorn, And break away the gauds and armlets worn By weaker women in captivity? Ah, vain denial! that revolted cry Is sobbed in by a woman’s voice forlorn; Thy woman’s hair, my sister, all unshorn, Floats back dishevelled strength in agony, Disproving thy man’s name; and while before The world thou burnest in a poet-fire, We see thy woman-heart beat evermore Through the large flame. Beat purer, heart, and higher, Till God unsex thee on the heavenly shore, Where unincarnate spirits purely aspire.