A town-bred girl, her hair in curl

And apron edged with lace,

She took me in, my head awhirl,

To my new place.

And there the five of us must hive

In that warm shutter'd house,

And keep our honesty alive

With none to counsel us.

[Pg 29]

The master and the mistresses,

What were they but strangers?

'Twas no part of their businesses

To think of servants' dangers.

They sneer at us, and we at them,

Life sunders where the stairs are:

But are the things that they condemn

In us much worse than theirs are?

 iv 

iv

'Twas busy now I had to be,

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