Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MISTRESS GLENARE, BY 'MARIAN', by ELIZABETH DOTEN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MISTRESS GLENARE, BY 'MARIAN', by                    
First Line: A virtuous woman is mistress glenare
Last Line: That poor sinful woman is—mistress glenare.
Alternate Author Name(s): Doten, Lizzie
Subject(s): Evil; Sin; Women - Secluding


A VIRTUOUS woman is Mistress Glenare—
Or, at least, so the world in its judgment would say;—
With an orderly walk and a circumspect air,
She never departs from the popular way.
Every word that she speaks is well measured and weighed;
Her friends are selected with scrupulous care;
And in all that she does is her prudence displayed,
For a virtuous woman is Mistress Glenare!

Her youth has departed, and with it has fled
The impulse which gives to the blood a new start,
Which oftentimes turns from the reasoning head,
To trust to the wisdom of God in the heart.
Thus the robes of her purity never are stained,
And her feet are withheld from the pitfall and snare;
Where nothing is ventured, there nothing is gained:
O, a virtuous woman is Mistress Glenare!

She makes no distinction of sinners from sin;
Her words are like arrows, her tongue is a rod;
She sees no excuse for the evil within,
But condemns with the zeal of a partialist God!
On a background of darkness, of sorrow and shame,
Her own reputation looks stainless and fair;
So she builds up her fame, through her neighbors' bad name:
O, a virtuous woman is Mistress Glenare!

She peeps and she listens, she watches and waits,
Nor Satan himself is more active than she
To expose in poor sinners the faults and bad traits,
Which she fears that the Lord might not happen to see.
When the Father of Spirits looks down from above
On the good and the evil, the frail and the fair,
How must he regard, with particular love,
This virtuous woman—good Mistress Glenare!

O, Mistress Glenare! in the drama of life
You are acting a very respectable part;
You have known just enough of its envious strife
To deceive both the world and your own foolish heart.
But say, in some moment of clear common sense,
Did you never in truth and sincerity dare
To ask the plain question, aside from pretence,
How you looked to the angels, dear Mistress Glenare?

The glory of God has enlightened their eyes:
No longer, through darkness, they see but in part,
And the robes of your righteousness do not suffice
To cover the lack of true love in the heart.
You look shabby, and filthy, and ragged, and mean—
E'en with those you condemn, you but poorly compare!
Go! wash you in Charity till you are clean;
You will change for the better, dear Mistress Glenare.

Your thoughts have been run in the popular mould,
Like wax that is plastic and easily melts;
Till now, like a nondescript, lo, and behold!
You are neither yourself, nor yet any one else.
Of tender compassion, forgiveness, and love,
Your nature has not a respectable share;
You are three parts of serpent, and one of the dove—
Very badly proportioned, dear Mistress Glenare.

Your noblest and purest affections have died,
Like summer-dried roses, your spirit within;
Your heart has grown arid, and scarce is supplied
With sufficient vitality even to sin.
But would you be true to your virtuous name,
There is one we commend to your tenderest care;
To deal with her wisely will add to your fame:
That poor sinful woman is—Mistress Glenare.





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