I WANTED to marry, but father said, “No—

’Tis weakness in women to give themselves so; If you care for your freedom you’ll listen to me, Make a spouse in your pocket, and let the men be.”

I spake on’t again and again: father cried, “Why—if you go husbanding, where shall I bide? For never a home’s for me elsewhere than here!” And I yielded; for father had ever been dear.

But now father’s gone, and I feel growing old, And I’m lonely and poor in this house on the wold, And my sweetheart that was found a partner elsewhere, And nobody flings me a thought or a care.