That beautiful mild woman for whose sake There's many a one shall find out all heartache On finding that her voice is sweet and low Replied, 'To be born a woman is to know- Although they do not talk of it at school - That we must labor to be beautiful.
Education is not filling
Whatever flames upon the night Man's own resinous heart has fed.
Everything we look upon is blest.
Not a man alive has so much luck that he can play with it.
I pray-for fashion's word is out And prayer comes round again- That I may seem, though I die old, A foolish, passionate man.