Louisa Susannah Cheves McCord (03 Dec 1810 – 23 Nov 1879 | Charleston SC – Charleston SC) poet, author, suffragist, playwright, translator, political essayist.

Oft in my bosom the self-flattering thought has roused itself – “I, too, may be a poet.”

Amidst the crowd: I am an atom in the sunbeam. Late was the hour, and dark the night;

gathering clouds bedimmed the light which some faint stars still struggling threw. But

where is she, who late bewailed the cruel wind’s relentless rage? And now, the receding

light of the bright sun sinks to rest. Oh Comet, hast thou no resting-place, thou wandering

thing? Still,I must pity thee: for thou’rt alone, and loneliness, methinks–is misery. And is

this progress: Are these noisy tongues – in fierce contention raised and angry war – fit

boast for womanhood? The ribald tongue profanes Heaven’s holiest things, but holy they

still are. The lowliest tasks are sanctified in nobly acting them. Our virtues are no wordy

theories, but sky-born instincts touching earth in full flower. We cannot shape future good.

Louisa S. McCord: Selected Writings. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1997. https://archive.org/details/louisasmccordsel0000mcco/page/179/mode/1up