 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
XANTHIPPE.
I am sick of sweet-faced women and their ways,
Their sugared sentences, and sugared looks,
I know by heart like children's picture books,
And all the dulcet arts that poets praise:
Their sugared sentences, and sugared looks,
I know by heart like children's picture books,
And all the dulcet arts that poets praise:
I long for Nature without starch or stays,
For words that brawl and boil like winter brooks,
The deeds unclogged by social eyes and hooks,
That set old systems in a glorious blaze.
For words that brawl and boil like winter brooks,
The deeds unclogged by social eyes and hooks,
That set old systems in a glorious blaze.
But me Xanthippe pleases far the best,
Flushed from brute triumphs o'er Socratic wit,
Whose tongue is not to trifle but to hit:
Flushed from brute triumphs o'er Socratic wit,
Whose tongue is not to trifle but to hit:
In her reluctant arms could I find rest,
Soothe her sour glance, tame her tempestuous breast,
And turn to kisses the cold lips that bit.
Soothe her sour glance, tame her tempestuous breast,
And turn to kisses the cold lips that bit.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |