Page 96 - 1931 Hartridge

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Revolution
'l ine PEASANT
Rough as the stump against which she leans,
Dry and hard as the unplowed held,
Long ages have watched her here.
As she digs like a swine with her gnarled hands
THE LADY
Lithe as the pine in the wind is lithe. White and soft as the listless clouds.
Scorn, disdain, attend her smile.
She hates with her eyes the fawning mob
BUT NOW
What strange hgure this in regal robes. Bent and brown as the fallen tree?
Whose this head held high no more?
Whose these white hands growing old and gnarled?
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I’m
Glad Fm
Me
rd like to he an Eskimo—
I wouldn't have to go to school; Or ever take my hath at night,
Or learn the golden rule.
‘dnjuns" never go to hed, Unless they have a mind to;
1 hey never have to he polite At meals, as you and I do.
Though wild ones have a lazy life, They can't have jelly-cake at tea,
Or applesauce. So after all, I guess Em glad Em me.
N. (\, ’3 I
J- H.,