Below, you’ll find the full poem ‘Now Let No Charitable Hope’ by Elinor Morton Wylie.

Now let no charitable hope

Confuse my mind with images

Of eagle and of antelope:

I am by nature none of these.

 

I was, being human, born alone;

I am, being woman, hard beset;

I live by squeezing from a stone

What 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.

Elinor Morton Wylie

 

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