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She is to me all women, and no man
Dispute that which belongs to me: she is mine,
In a glance claimed, the turning in the line
Of every feature tells me all it can
Of all I know about her, the plot and plan
That is her way, that makes her feminine,
Different from me as different the Divine,
And quite as awe-inspiring. It began
In early age, when her figure a fortress
Provided, mother overpowering; turned
To vulnerability as I grew older,
A tyrant in my lust, when passion burned
For girls! Years passed; till now I'm judged the colder;
But still in her all women mine no less. |
