Explore "Mesalliance" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I am troubled to-night with a curious pain; / It is not of the flesh, it is not of the brain, / Nor yet of a heart that is breaking: / But down still deeper, and out of sight -- / In the place where the soul and the body unite -- / There lies the scat of the aching.
They have been lovers in days gone by; / But the soul is fickle, and longs to fly / From the fettering mesalliance: / And she tears at the bonds which are binding her so, / And pleads with the body to let her go, / But he will not yield compliance.