Mr Maxwell - a Cry of An Abused Maid

In the abode of a man with a heart of stone, Out of Compassion, his spouse saved me from scraps and bone, But by his hand I want to be left alone. A domestic help I was meant to render, But Mr. Maxwell’s eyes behind my back yearned for another, Creeping at night into my room he sought my tender. Protest to my mistress-his spouse I can’t, For to lose a job and fine rations I can’t, And his forewarning wounded me like a treacherous ant. How can a man be absent of conscience? But in the eyes of his folks full of pretense In between my legs I find his sense. In the eyes of all he proclaims love for spouse, Under my curtains at night he creeps in like a hungry mouse. I crave for his absence but can’t leave his house.