No, you keep servants only! What is more—

You don’t keep these!

Wives, say you? Wives! Blessed indeed are they

Who hold of love the everlasting keys,

Keeping their husbands’ hearts! Alas the day!

You don’t keep these!

And mothers? Pitying Heaven! Mark the cry

From cradle death-beds! Mothers on their knees!

Why, half the children born, as children, die!

You don’t keep these!