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 low,     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, pretty,     Or on her husbands name;     The real loafed-on woman,     With courage almost grim,     Goes out and takes in washing     To keep the kids, and him.     The Separated Woman,     I knew her course so well:     The Stage, then first-class barmaid,     Then third-class bar, and hell:     And hell 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 teachers,     Oh! they are flinty nuts!     Their friends are man-shaped crawlers     And lower than the dust.     The separated Monsters     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 Monster back.     Theyve moved all hell to crush him     And, startled, find too late     The Monsters grown content with     The separated state.