I, being born a woman and distressed. By all the needs and notions of my kind, Am urged by your propinquity to find. Your person fair, and feel a certain zest. To bear your body's weight upon my breast; So subtly is the fume of life designed, To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind, And leave me once again undone, possessed. Think not for this, however, the poor treason. Of my stout blood against my staggering brain, I shall remember you with love, or season. My scorn with pity, - let me make it plain: I find this frenzy insufficient reason. For conversation when we meet again.
Edna St. Vincent MillayAbout author
- Author's profession: Author
- Nationality: american
- Born: February 22, 1892
- Died: October 19, 1950
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