Explore "A Married Coquette" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Sit still, I say, and dispense with heroics! / I hurt your wrists? Well, you have hurt me. / It is time you found out that all men are not stoics, / Nor toys to be used as your mood may be. / _I will not_ let go of your hands, nor leave you / Until I have spoken. No man, you say, / Dared ever so treat you before? I believe you, / For you have dealt only with _boys_ till to-day.
You women lay stress on your fine perception, / Your intuitions are prated about; / You claim an occult sort of conception / Of matters which men must reason out. / So then, of course, when you ask me kindly / "To call again soon," you read my heart. / I cannot believe you were acting blindly; / You saw my passion for you from the start.