AUGUST 415 



what perhaps will be the trials and temptations of their 

 own future. These poems describe very truthfully the 

 phases many women go through, in a more or less degree, 

 according to their kind women who, to all appearances, 

 are just like everyone else, who lead their quiet dutiful 

 lives in all sincerity and honour. During my lifetime 

 the fact has been much more recognised that the tempta- 

 tions and trials of women are not really so very different 

 from those of men, though in our civilised life they come 

 to them in a different way and often at a different 

 age. This fact was, I believe, well understood in the old 

 world, though covered over and distorted during the 

 Middle Ages. Here are the sonnets, so rightly called tho 

 ' Three Ages of Woman ' : 



I. 



Love, in thy youth, a stranger knelt to thee, 



With cheeks all red and golden locks all curled 

 And cried, ' Sweet child, if thou wilt worship me, 



Thou shalt possess the kingdoms of the world.' 

 But you looked down and said, ' I know you not, 



Nor want I other kingdom than my soul.' 

 Till Love in shame, convicted of his plot, 



Left you and turned him to some other goal 

 And this discomfiture which you had seen 



Long served you for your homily and boast, 

 While, of your beauty and yourself the queen, 



You lived a monument of vain love crossed, 

 With scarce a thought of that which might have been 



To scare you with the ghost of pleasures lost. 



II. 



Your youth flowed on, a river chaste and fair, 



Till thirty years were written to your name. 

 A wife, a mother, these the titles were 



Which conquered for you the world's fairest fame. 

 In all things you were wise but in this one, 



That of your wisdom you yourself did doubt. 

 Youth spent like age, no joy beneath the sun, 



Your glass of beauty vainly running out. 



