"For woman is not undevelopt man,
But diverse: could we make her as the man,
Sweet Love were slain: his dearest bond is this,
Not like to like, but like in difference."( Tennysen "The Women's Cause is Man's 259-262)
| She had | |
| A heart—how shall I say?—too soon made glad. | |
| Too easily impressed: she liked whate’er | |
| She looked on, and her looks went everywhere. | |
| Sir, ’twas all one! My favor at her breast, | 25 |
| The dropping of the daylight in the West, | |
| The bough of cherries some officious fool | |
| Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule | |
| She rode with round the terrace—all and each | |
| Would draw from her alike the approving speech, | 30 |
| Or blush, at least. She thanked men,—good! but thanked | |
| Somehow—I know not how—as if she ranked | |
| My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name | |
| With anybody’s gift.(Browning My Last Duchess 21-34) |
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