Can man be free if woman be a slave?

If he is infinitely good, what reason should we have to fear him? If he is infinitely wise, what doubts should we have concerning our future? If he knows all, why warn him of our needs and fatigue him with our prayers? If he is everywhere, why erect temples to him? If he is just, why fear that he will punish the creatures that he has filled with weaknesses?

When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead - When the cloud is scattered The rainbow's glory is shed.

Fame, power, and gold, are loved for their own sakes - are worshipped with a blind, habitual idolatry.

Cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.

War is the statesman's game, the priest's delight, the lawyer's jest, the hired assassin's trade.

Near that a dusty paint-box, some odd hooks, A half-burnt match, an ivory block, three books, Where conic sections, spherics, logarithms, To great Laplace, from Saunderson and Sims, Lie heaped in their harmonious disarray Of figures,-disentangle them who may.