In this our world

by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Quoth they, “The thing you mean

Is that you scorn to be a drone

And long to be a queen.

“You long to lay unnumbered eggs,

And rule the waiting throng;

You long to lead our summer flight,

And this is rankly wrong.”

Cried he, “My life is pitiful!

I only eat and wed,

And in my marriage is the end—