Now who could take you off to tiny life 
In one room or in two rooms or in three 
And cork you smartly, like the flask of wine 
You are? Not any woman. Not a wife. 
You'd let her twirl you, give her a good glee 
Showing your leaping ruby to a friend. 
Though twirling would be meek. Since not a cork 
Could you allow, for being made so free. 

A woman would be wise to think it well 
If once a week you only rang the bell.