Who has tamed the heart, that she should be tamed?
Who says to the heart, "Do this" and she does?
"Do not step out at night my dear, lest you hurt"
And still she goes off frolicking, skipping and hopping
But she means no disrespect, do regard
It is only that she knows no definitions
She is bound by no propriety, no custom
All she conceives is freedom, insecurity alien
And it is this freedom that designs her motion
Freedom that offends some, to some release abandonment.
Who is to judge whether she is at fault or virtuous?
Or maybe even both sides of the coin?
She is what she is, and that is all.
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