Classic Poem

Be still, be still, and speak not back again.
What right have you to answer in this strain?
Whilst I’m a man, a prince of the creation,
You’re but a female woman by your station;
A creature for man’s sovereign service born,
Whose fitting wages are contempt and scorn.
A creature formed to dive down in the sea
To fetch up sea-eggs for the likes of me;
Only too grateful, when we’ve stilled our greed,
If on our leavings you’re allowed to feed.
If thus I speak, I speak on public grounds,
My only aim is to keep well in bounds.