His eyes grow hot, his words grow wild;
He swears to break the mold and leave her.
She smiles at him as at a child
That's touched with fever.

She smooths his ruffled wings, she leans
To comfort, pamper and restore him.
And when he sulks or scowls she preens
His feathers for him.

He hungers after stale regrets,
Nourished by what she offers gaily;
And all he thinks he never gets
She feeds him daily.

He lusts for freedom, cries how long
Must he be bound by what controlled him;
Yet he is glad the chains are strong
And that they hold him.

She knows he feels all this but she
Is far too wise to let him know it;
He likes to nurse the agony
That fits a poet.

He grins to see her shape his life,
When she half-coaxes, half-commands him.
And groans it's hard to have a wife
Who understands him.