The Smith’s Wife.
By copious draughts, and jarring disputes fired,1
From whisky-shop the reeling Smith retired ;2
His wife, pre-doomed to feal a Tyrant’s hand,3
And dread the thunder of his harsh command,4
With beating heart his tottering footsteps hears,5
Whilst broken curses murmur in her ears,6
Each quaking imp discerns th’ approaching woe,7
And feels, in every step, a coming blow.8
Oh shame to manhood—blot on nature’s plan,9
And only in thine outward form a Man !10
Shamed by the fiercest brute that roams the plain ;11
The Tiger loves, and is beloved again ;12
The fierce Hyena— fellest of the fell”—13
In soft connubial amity will dwell.14
She shrinks at thy approach, whose broken heart15
In all thy varied fortunes bore a part ;16
And even now, beneath this load of ill,17
That broken-hearted woman loves thee still—18
Clings to the arm that strikes her—bathes thy bed19
With tears for thee and for thy Infants shed.20
Could I with magic art thy crime pursue,21
And visit on thy head the vengeance due,22
No vulture should be sent to tear thy heart,23
Nor shouldst thou need to pey Ixion’s part,—24
No Christian torture rack thy writhing frame,25
Nor hellish Imp pursue thee through the flame,—26
But, doomed to dree a long protracted life,27
I’d match thee fairly with the “ Tailor’s Wife !”28
Oh woman ! injured, basely scoffed, and scorned,29
With all but immortality adorned,30
Where’er thy destiny has fixed thy fate,31
Or in the cottage, or the hall of state,32
Thy proudest boast, than all thy charms more dear—33
Is “ Patience,” in the state we picture here.34