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1861–1923

iii

Maurice Henry Hewlett

A town-bred girl, her hair in curl And apron edged with lace, She took me in, my head awhirl, To my new place.

And there the five of us must hive In that warm shutter'd house, And keep our honesty alive With none to counsel us.

The master and the mistresses, What were they but strangers? ‘ Twas no part of their businesses To think of servants’ dangers.

They sneer at us, and we at them, Life sunders where the stairs are: But are the things that they condemn In us much worse than theirs are?

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iii · Maurice Henry Hewlett · Poetry Cove