Author Thomas Carlyle Priest-ridden, wife-ridden, plague-ridden, Who escapes his lot? Bearing, forbearing, paying, obeying, Will ye, will ye not. Child-ridden, tremble at my Doll's pouting: Fortune, spare me that! Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments