  FOR the man was she made by the Eden tree, To be decked in soft raiment and worn on his sleeve, To be fondled so long as they both agree,— A thing to take, or a thing to leave. But for her, let her live through one long summer eve— Just the stars, and the moon, and the man, and she— And her soul will escape her beyond reprieve, And, alas! the whole of her world is he. To-morrow brings plenty as lovesome, maybe; If she break when he handles her, why should he grieve? She is only one pearl in a pearl-crowded sea,— A thing to take, or a thing to leave. But she, though she knows he has kissed to deceive, When life has gone, what further loss can bereave? And, alas! the whole of her world is he. For the man was she made upon Eden lea, To be helpmeet what time there is burden to heave, White-footed, to follow where he walks free,— A thing to take, or a thing to leave; White-fingered, to weave and to interweave Her woof with his warp, and a tear two or three, Till clear his way out through her web he cleave, And, alas! the whole of her world is he. ENVOI. |
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