Let no charitable hope

Now let no charitable hope

Confuse my mind with images

Of eagle and of antelope:

I am in nature none of these.

I was, being human, born alone;

I am, being woman, hard beset;

I live by squeezing from 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.