| "As unto the bow the cord is | |
| So unto the man is woman | |
| Though she bends him, she obeys him | |
| Though she draws him, yet she follows | |
| Useless each without the other." |
| "Then though we must grow old, we shall grow old | |
| Together. And he shall not greatly miss | |
| My bloom faded, and waning light of eyes | |
| Too deeply gazed in ever to seem dim: | |
| Nor shall we murmur at nor much regret | |
| The years that gently bend us to the ground, | |
| And gradually incline our face: that we | |
| Leisurely stooping, and with each slow step, | |
| May curiously inspect our lasting home." | |
| - (Morpessa, S. Phillips) |