Sarah Fyge, English poet,writer, and feminist, born in Winslow, Buckinghamshire, 1670. Fyge was one of six daughters, her father Thomas Fyge, an apothecary and physician, and her mother, Mary Beecham Fyge.
Fyge, a feminist from a young age, began writing from the age of fourteen. Where her first work entitled "The Female Advocate" was published without her consent, in 1686,... more »
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Sarah Fyge Poems
Say, Tyrant Custom, why must we obey The impositions of thy haughty Sway; From the first dawn of Life, unto the Grave, Poor Womankind's in every State, a Slave.
Go perjur'd Youth and court what Nymph you please, Your Passion now is but a dull disease; With worn-out Sighs deceive some list'ning Ear, Who longs to know how 'tis and what Men swear;
The Repulse to Alcander
What is't you mean, that I am thus approach'd, Dare you to hope, that I may be debauch'd? For your seducing Words the same implies, In begging Pity with a soft Surprise,
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Say, Tyrant Custom, why must we obey
The impositions of thy haughty Sway;
From the first dawn of Life, unto the Grave,
Poor Womankind's in every State, a Slave.
The Nurse, the Mistress, Parent and the Swain,
For Love she must, there's none escape that Pain;
Then comes the last, the fatal Slavery,
The Husband with insulting Tyranny
Can have ill Manners justify'd by Law;
For Men all join to keep the Wife in awe.
Moses who first our Freedom did rebuke,
Was Marry'd when he writ the Pentateuch;
They're Wise to keep us Slaves, for well they ...