Harriet Wilson, shall I tell thee where, <br />Beside my being cleverer, <br />We differ?-thou wert hired to hold thy tongue, <br />Thou hast no right to do thy lovers wrong: <br />But I, whom none could buy or gain, <br />Who am as proud, girl, as thyself art vain, <br />And like thyself, or sooner like the wind, <br />Blow raging ever free and unconfin'd. <br />What should withhold my tongue with pen of steel, <br />The faults of those who have wrong'd me to reveal? <br />Why should I hide men's follies, whilst my own <br />Blaze like the gas along this talking town? <br />Is it being bitter to be too sincere? <br />Must we adulterate truth as they do beer? <br />I'll tell thee why then! as each has his price, <br />I have been bought at last-I am not ice: <br />Kindness and gratitude have chained my tongue, <br />From henceforth I will do no mortal wrong. <br />Prate those who please-laugh-censure who that will, <br />My mouth is sealed-my thoughts-my pen-are still. <br />In the meantime-we Lambs are seldom civil, <br />I wish thy book-not thee-at the Devil.<br /><br />Lady Caroline Lamb<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lines-to-harriet-wilson/
