When Woman is in rags and poor,
And sorrow, cold, and hunger tease her,
If man would only listen more
To that small voice that crieth—“Ease her!”
Without the guidance of a friend,
Though legal sharks and screws attack her,
If man would only more attend
To that small voice that crieth—“Back her!”
So oft it would not be his fate
To witness some despairing dropper
In Thames’s tide, and run too late
To that small voice that crieth—“Stop her!”