Lines to Mr. Bowdle of Ohio

You, who despise the so-called fairer sex,

Be brave. There really is n't any reason

You should not, if you wish, oppose and vex

And scold us in, and even out of season;

But do n't regard it as your bounden duty

To open with a tribute to our beauty.

Say if you like that women have no sense,

No self-control, no power of concentration;

Say that hysterics is our one defence

Our virtue but an absence of temptation;

These I can bear, but, oh, I own it rankles

To hear you maundering on about our ankles.

Tell those old stories, which have now and then

Been from the Record thoughtfully deleted,

Repeat that favorite one about the hen,

Repeat the ones that cannot be repeated;

But in the midst of such enjoyments, smother

The impulse to extol your “sainted mother.”