To be a wife! . . . . He asks of me
Life's love, the heart's long loyalty,
That I join his life to my own
And of all men choose him alone
The father of my child to be.

Beloved — yes! Together we
Can work, can grow, our trades agree —
What! You demand domestic Joan?
And I must toil at your hearthstone
To be a wife?

Beloved! — listen — can't you see
That wifehood is not cookery?
That mother's love, that woman's heart
In kitchen service need no part?
My work is chosen — yet I'm free
To be a wife.