89 (why deprive me my fate)

WHY DEPRIVE me, my Fate,

of my woman's right

boldly to conquer the best of life's prizes

with mine own arrogant power,

and not to keep gazing at emptiness,

waiting for some chance drifting towards me

with the withered fruit of weary days of patience?

Send me without pity to the utter risk of my all for the treasure

guarded behind rudely forbidding barricades.

Never for me is to steal into the bridal chamber

with the timid tinkling of anklets

in a dim twilight dusk,

but recklessly to rush

into the desperate danger of love,

by some troubled sea,

where its stormy vehemence would snatch away from my face

the veil of shrinking maidenliness,

and amidst the ominous shrieks of sea-birds

could be raised to my warrior my cry

You are mine own.