This was what you saw in me.
“Sir, I claim to be a woman:
Nothing less and nothing more;
Laughing when my heart is joyful,
Weeping when my heart is sore;
Loving all things good and tender,
Nor so coldly over-wise
As to scorn a lover’s kisses,
Or the light of children’s eyes.
“Over-wise! Nay, it were folly