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A WOMAN'S LOVE

I am not blind—I understand;
I see him loyal, good, and wise,
I feel decision in his hand,
I read his honour in his eyes.
Manliest among men is he
With every gift and grace to clothe him;
He never loved a girl but me—
And I—I loathe him!—loathe him!

The other! Ah! I value him
Precisely at his proper rate,
A creature of caprice and whim,
Unstable, weak, importunate.
His thoughts are set on paltry gain—
You only tell me what I see—
I know him selfish, cold and vain;
But, oh! he's all the world to me!