And I proud, by that test.
What art’s for a woman? to hold on her knees
Both darlings! to feel all their arms round her throat
Cling, strangle a little! to sew by degrees
And ’broider the long-clothes and neat little coat!
To dream and to doat!
To teach them.... It stings there! I made them, indeed,
Speak plain the word country. I taught them, no doubt,
That a country’s a thing men should die for at need.
I prated of liberty, rights, and about