A woman loves me!

’Tis not of her I sing whose womb has been

The primal cradle of my tender self;

I mean not mother-love.

A woman loves me!

’Tis not of her I sing who also sprang

From that same source whence also I have sprung;

I mean not sister-love.

A woman loves me!

I sing of her who “from the mobs of life”

Has chosen me as him to whom alone

She will unlock her body and her soul

To welcome all my love.