THOU large-brained woman and large-hearted man, br Self-called George Sand ! whose soul, amid the lions br Of thy tumultuous senses, moans defiance br And answers roar for roar, as spirits can: br I would some mild miraculous thunder ran br Above the applauded circus, in appliance br Of thine own nobler nature's strength and science, br Drawing two pinions, white as wings of swan, br From thy strong shoulders, to amaze the place br With holier light ! that thou to woman's claim br And man's, mightst join beside the angel's grace br Of a pure genius sanctified from blame br Till child and maiden pressed to thine embrace br To kiss upon thy lips a stainless fame.