Exempt! She “does not have to work!” So might one talk Defending long, bedridden ease, Weak yielding ankles, flaccid knees, With, “I don’t have to walk!” Not have to work. Why not? Who gave Free pass to you? You’re housed and fed and taught and dressed By age-long labor of the rest— Work other people do! What do you give in honest pay For clothes and food?— Then as a shield, defence, excuse, She offers her exclusive use— Her function—Motherhood! Is motherhood a trade you make A living by? And does the wealth you so may use, Squander, accumulate, abuse, Show motherhood as high? Or does the motherhood of those Whose toil endures, The farmers’ and mechanics’ wives, Hard working servants all their lives— Deserve less price than yours? We’re not exempt! Man’s world runs on, Motherless, wild; Our servitude and long duress, Our shameless, harem idleness, Both fail to serve the child.