The Poetry Corner

A Woman's Love

By Arthur Conan Doyle

I am not blind I understand; I see him loyal, good, and wise, I feel decision in his hand, I read his honour in his eyes. Manliest among men is he With every gift and grace to clothe him; He never loved a girl but me — And I I loathe him! loathe him! The other! Ah! I value him Precisely at his proper rate, A creature of caprice and whim, Unstable, weak, importunate. His thoughts are set on paltry gain — You only tell me what I see — I know him selfish, cold and vain; But, oh! he's all the world to me!