Contented.
Gladly on love’s road
Pulling the rickshaw,
Undrawn, I draw it
On to the end.
The husband (selfish brute!) is of course seated in the rickshaw, and it is worth notice that “love’s road” is the first metaphor we have encountered. Against the jealous wife, bending, lantern in hand, over her faithless lord, may be set this quiet tribute of grateful security:
My Husband.
Thou art as yonder
Delicate hill-pine,
Through years a thousand