He lives in roaming on outdoor floors,
Who would sleep on grass or thistle down
but that his parents set unfound bounds.
A homely house makes not a home.
Not like a woman's eyes.
A bed and breakfast make not love,
not like a quiet, peaceful sigh.
All men cling fast to woman,
to hope and happy lives.
What word is now more grand
or more happy than that one: Wife.