

For, Nature, in no shallow surge

Against thee either sex may urge,

Why hast thou made us but in halves—

Co-relatives? This makes us slaves.

If these co-relatives never meet

Self-hood itself seems incomplete.

And such the dicing of blind fate

Few matching halves here meet and mate.

What Cosmic jest or Anarch blunder

The human integral clove asunder

And shied the fractions through life's gate?