My Stepmother.
Who marred my stealthy urchin joys,
And, when I played, cried “What a noise!”—
Girls always hector over boys—
My Sister.
Who used to share in what was mine,
Or took it all, did he incline,
’Cause I was eight, and he was nine?
My Brother.
Who stroked my head, and said, “Good lad,”