XLI <br /> <br />I, being born a woman and distressed <br />By all the needs and notions of my kind, <br />Am urged by your propinquity to find <br />Your person fair, and feel a certain zest <br />To bear you body's weight upon my breast: <br />So subtly is the fume of life designed, <br />To clairfy the pulse and cloud the mind, <br />And leave me once again undone, possessed. <br />Think not for this, however, the poor treason <br />Of my stout blood against my staggering brain, <br />I shall remember you with love, or season <br />My scorn with pity,—let me make it plain: <br />I find ths frenzy insufficient reason <br />For conversation when we meet again.<br /><br />Edna St. Vincent Millay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnets-from-an-ungrafted-tree/
