Page:Alice Miller (1917) Women are people (Internet Archive).djvu/64



you, Mabel, that your woman's heart Is all untouched by tales of woe and crime, And that you have no wish to bear your part In curing any evil of the time. I bless you that you are so unaware Of infant children labouring in our mills, And that you really do not seem to care For other women's injuries and ills. I love you when they tell you ugly things Of death and poverty about your door, You fold your hands with all their flashing rings, Fixing on me the eyes that I adore, And say in accents like a silver bell: "What matter, Ferdinand, if you are well!"