To Miss Susan B. Anthony, On Her Fiftieth Birthday
Poem by Phoebe Cary, 24 February 1872
We touch our caps, and place
The victor's wreath upon her,
The woman who outranks us all
In courage and in honor.
While others in domestic broils
Have proved by word and carriage,
That one of the United States
Is not the state of marriage.
She, caring not for loss of men,
Nor for the world's confusion,
Has carried on a civil war,
And made a "Revolution."
True, other women have been brave,
When banded or hus-banded,
But she has bravely fought her way
Alone and single-handed.
And think of her unselfish strength,
Her generous disposition,
Who never made a lasting prop
Out of a proposition.
She might have chosen an honored name,
And none have scorned or hissed it
Have written Mrs. Jones or Smith,
But, strange to say, she Missed it.
For fifty years to come may she
Grow rich and ripe and mellow,
Be quoted even above "par,"
Or any other fellow!
And speak the truth from pole to pole,
And keep her light a-burning,
Before she cuts her stick to go
The way there's no returning.
Because her motto grand hath been
The right of every human,
And first and last, and right or wrong
She takes the side of woman.
"A perfect woman, nobly planned,"
To aid, not to amuse one,
Take her for all in all we ne'er
Shall see the match for Susan!
Revolution, 24 February 1870.
Prepared for the Selected Papers of Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony, vol. 2, Against an Aristocracy of Sex, 1866 to 1873, ed. Ann D. Gordon (New Brunswick, N.J., 2000). ©Rutgers, the State University of New Jersey.