I own there are heights that she cannot attain.
She is not at home with a gun.
In pastimes where one living creature is slain
She cannot perceive any fun;
And never a poor feathered songster has died
Her hat or her bonnet to grace;
And after the hounds it were torture to ride,
Lest Reynard should lose in the race.
And much she ignores that New Women should learn,
And still she refuses to smoke: