<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117554" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Slave Produce</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Eat! they are cates for a lady's lip,<br>Rich as the sweets that the wild bees sip;<br>Mingled viands that nature hath pour'd,<br>From the plenteous stores of her flowing board,<br>Bearing no trace of man's cruelty—save<br>The red life-drops of his human slave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">List thee, lady! and turn aside,<br>With a loathing heart, from the feast of pride;<br>For, mix'd with the pleasant sweets it bears,<br>Is the hidden curse of scalding tears,<br>Wrung out from woman's bloodshot eye,<br>By the depth of her deadly agony.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Look! they are robes from a foreign loom,<br>Delicate, light, as the rose leaf's bloom;<br>Stainless and pure in their snowy tint,<br>As the drift unmarked by a footstep's print.<br>Surely such garment should fitting be,<br>For woman's softness and purity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet fling them off from thy shrinking limb,<br>For sighs have render'd their brightness dim;<br>And many a mother's shriek and groan,<br>And many a daughter's burning moan,<br>And many a sob of wild despair,<br>From woman's heart, is lingering there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Elizabeth+Margaret+Chandler">Elizabeth Margaret Chandler</a> from <i>Poetical Works</i><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117554" data-title="Slave Produce de Elizabeth Margaret Chandler" data-description="Eat! they are cates for a lady's lip,/Rich as the sweets that the wild bees sip;/Mingled viands that nature hath pour'd,/From the plenteous stores of her flowing board,/Bearing no trace of man's cruelty—save/The red life-drops of his human slave..."></div> </div> </div>

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