First up, we have DOI/TSUCHII Bansui (土井晩翠), with "Woman of Japan" (日本の女性):

Chastity like the smiling scent of plums
That bloom amid the falling snows of harsh winter;
Honor like the perfume of the thoroughwart
That grows in valleys secret, deep and dark,
Achievements shining like a pure white gem
In pools embraced by waves of ocean blue.
Ah, you, your deeds supreme and yet unseen,
Ah, you, your honor great and yet untold,
Ah, you, your chastity, complete, unknown,
Our very nation has its source in you,
In tears and sadness and chastity and love,
Ah, you, your strength, o gentle womankind.

Ahem. To rebut, we have ISHIKAWA Takuboku (石川啄木) with "Afternoon in my Study" (書斎の午後):

I do not like this country's women.
On the pages, rough to the touch,
of a half-read book from overseas,
I slip and spill some wine, but
it never quite sinks in: this sadness.
I do not like this country's women.

Enigmatic, and entirely unfriendly. Which poet has the stronger case? Only you can decide, while preventing forest fires.

(Personally I think women suffered enough during the Meiji restoration without having poems like this written about them, but then again, I'm not a poet.)