The Separated Women
THE Separated Women
Go lying through the land,
For they have plenty dresses,
And money, too, in hand;
They married brutes and drunkards
And blackguards -frightful lowâ?,
But why are they so eager
For all the world to know?
The shamed and ill-used woman
Who really longs to die,
She slaves at home in silence
And hides her poor black eye!
She lives a life of terror
Eased off at times in woe-
But why is she so frightened
That any one might know?
The Separated Woman
She rushes to the court,
Sad, shabby and pathetic,
Or flaunting or distraught;
The real wronged wife would rather
Lose both eyes and her hair-
She swears a lie to save him
When he is taken there.
The Separated Woman
She mostly goes the same,
Bag-woman, sham-nurse, -prettyâ?,
Or on her husband-s name;
The real loafed-on woman,
With courage almost grim,
-Goes outâ? and takes in washing
To keep the kids-and him.
The Separated Woman-
I knew her course so well:
-The Stageâ?, then first-class barmaid,
Then third-class bar-and hell:
And -hellâ? means all things vicious
That prey upon the town
(She wishes her poor husband
Had sometimes knocked her down).
Masseur and manicurist,
Or anything by chance,
They vilify their husbands-
And draw the maintenance.
Sham artists, -music teachersâ?-
Oh! they are flinty nuts!
Their friends are man-shaped crawlers
And lower than the dust.
The separated -Monstersâ?
Are missing from the tale-
They seem to have cleared out-or,
Perhaps they are in gaol.
The separated husband
Is heard of here and there,
A mild and decent citizen
And mostly bowed with care.
The Separated Women,
When upset in the track,
Are often very eager
To take the -Monsterâ? back.
They-ve moved all hell to crush him
And, startled, find too late
The Monster-s grown content with
The separated state.
Henry Lawson
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