"O women, if we would compel the men To bow to Peace, we must refrain ... We must refrain from every depth of love. ... All we have to do is idly sit indoors With smooth roses powdered on our cheeks, Our bodies burning naked through the folds Of shining Amorgos' silk, and meet the men With our dear Venus-plats plucked trim and neat. Their stirring love will rise up furiously, They'll beg our arms to open. That's our time! We'll disregard their knocking, beat them off— And they will soon be rabid for a Peace. I'm sure of it."