This poem was included in the original 1915 edition.
I know that he told that I snared his soul With a snare which bled him to death. And all the men loved him, And most of the women pitied him. But suppose you are really a lady, and have delicate tastes, And loathe the smell of whiskey and onions, And the rhythm of Wordsworth's "Ode" runs in your ears, While he goes about from morning till night Repeating bits of that common thing; "Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?" And then, suppose; You are a woman well endowed, And the only man with whom the law and morality Permit you to have the marital relation Is the very man that fills you with disgust Every time you think of it while you think of it Every time you see him? That's why I drove him away from home To live with his dog in a dingy room Back of his office.
, 6 months ago
hey nicholas
, 6 months ago
she nasty
, 4 months ago
this was one of the poems assigned to me in english class to write about. although i didn't like it as much as trainor, the druggist, it was still pleasant. haha and i totally didn't get what she was talking about (now that i read the comments above)
wow
, 3 months ago
Make me a Chicken Salad Sandwich.
With extra mayo on it.
bitch.
on a sesame seed bun.
now.
, about 1 month ago
Misophobia. Read Benjamin's remarks and there's little mystery here.
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Jay Bushman , 8 months ago
Another hypocritical Conservative - Mrs. Pantier is head of the Social Purity Club, and yet confesses that every time she sees her husband, she thinks about having sex with him. Does he really disgust her, or is she disgusted with her "impure" feelings?