ON HER WAYWARDNESS br This is rank slavery. It better were br To till the thankless earth with sweat of brow, br Following dull oxen 'neath a goad of care br To a boor's grave agape behind the plough. br It better were to linger in some slow br Unnatural case, the sport of flood or fire, br To be undone by some inhuman vow br And robbed in youth of youth and its desire. br It better were to perish than thus live br Thy pensioner and bondsman, day by day br Doing fool's service thus for love of thee.