More on Women
Woman is a delightful instrument of pleasure, but it is necessary to know its trembling strings, to study the position of them, the timid keyboard, the fingering so changeful and capricious which befits it.
Thy daughters bright thy walks adorn,
Gay as the gilded summer sky,
Sweet as the dewy milk-white thorn,
Dear as the raptured thrill of joy.
Her stature tall—I hate a dumpy woman.
And she was fayr as is the rose in May.
Art thou so deeply read in nature and her large philosophy, and I am yet to teach thee that deadliest hellebore or the vomit of a toad are qualified poison to the malice of a woman?
When lovely woman stoops to folly and
Paces about her room again, alone,
She smoothes her hair with automatic hand,
And puts a record on the gramophone.
Women should be obscene but not heard.
Woman, a pleasing but a short-lived flow'r,
Too soft for business and too weak for pow'r:
A wife in bondage, or neglected maid;
Despised, if ugly; if she's fair, betrayed.
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