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Did you not love me?—much against your will! I was too bold, too modern, and too free; Outspoken as a woman should not be,— You disapproved,—and yet you loved me still!
One of the twain must conquer, one submit: Which were the harder, which more full of rack?— For me to rein my fiery spirit back? For you to spur your soul to roam with it?
I know it all! A lifelong fight for me To stand without forbidden fields of thought; Perhaps some peace at last,—too dearly bought At cost of individuality!
Far better as it is, and yet,—the pain!— Not even the Modern Woman can conquer Fate It is so hard to work alone, and wait; I love you, Dear, so dearly! all in vain—
But you who choose the well-worn path of life, And wish no straying from the beaten track, Not even you could call my wild soul back, Or mould me to your will, the model wife.
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