Explore "Isaura" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Dost thou not tire, Isaura, of this play? / "What play? " Why, this old play of winning hearts! / Nay, now, lift not thine eyes in that feigned way: / 'Tis all in vain -- I know thee and thine arts.
Let us be frank, Isaura. I have made / A study of thee; and while I admire / The practised skill with which thy plans are laid, / I can but wonder if thou dost not tire.