The busy have no time for tears.
When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted, To sever for years.
I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse -- borne away with every breath!
Though the day of my Destiny 's over, And the star of my Fate hath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find.
I see before me the gladiator lie.
But as to women, who can penetrate the real sufferings of their she condition? Man's very sympathy with their estate has much of selfishness and more suspicion. Their love, their virtue, beauty, education, but form good housekeepers, to breed a nation.