The Book

Put back the Bible in its place: you know
Well enough where it lies upon the mat
Beside the aspidistra—ay, just so.
I cannot think at all what you'd be at,
Taking it down, and on a weekday, too!
You cannot have been after any good.
Surely a girl should have enough to do
Upon a Monday morning, ay, she should,
With the week's washing waiting to be done,
Without book-reading and such idleness!
What was it you were conning? Solomon!
A young wench reading Solomon, no less!
You should feel shame! I cannot think what lasses
Are coming to at all! You get your broom,
And sweep the yard: but first reach down my glasses;
Then hand the Book to me. Now leave the room.
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