To leave to me the task that she should share.
Master, rebuke her, just and true Thou art—
What do I hear? “She hath the better part.”
If all chose thus then all would go unfed—
Souls hunger, yes! but bodies have their need.
Some one must grind and mix the daily bread,
Some one wake early that the rest may feed,
Some one bear burdens, face the summer sun—
But must I always, always be the one?
“Cumbered with serving,” thus the Master spake;