The Wife

I have no rest,
I am a guest at best,
I can be driven from the house,
Like bat or mouse,
If I please not the house's lord,
For bed and board.

I spend my days
In dull sequestered ways,
Without right to praise.
My brain dies
For want of exercise,
I dare not speak,
For I am weak.

'Twere better for my man and me,
If I were free,
Not to be done by, but to be.
But I am tied,
Free movement is denied.
I am a man's wife
For all my life!
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