And mortal men are very tough
To get along with,—hasty, rough.
Yes, tribulation’s doomed to her
Who weds a man, without no doubt.
In peace a man is singuler;
His ways they are past findin’ out.
And oh! the wrath of mortal males—
To point their ire, earth’s language fails.
And thirteen children in our home
Their buttons rend, their clothes they burst,