POETRY.

White Ribbon, Volume 1, Issue 12, 1 June 1896, Page 5

POETRY.

Shee was a mayde, a gentil mayde, Herhearte was soft and kynde, Anil yet shoe lyked her horse’s tayle, Cut off behynde, behynde, Cut off full shorto behynde. With blynders check? l , and martyngales, That hapless beast was Or else her sadylle palled his back Whenever shoe did ryde. O why not sit astryde ? Shee had a dogge, a lyttel dogge, Shee wore him on a chayne ; Shoe made him fatte, shee made him sickke And so 110 dyed in payne— Alas ! he dyed in payne ! Shee ha 1 a flower, a lovely flower, Which languished in a potto, Shee tho’t it was its nature to — But then you know it’s notte! Of course wo know it’s notte ! Shee had a byrde, a yellow byrdo. Life-prisoned in a cayge; *• Tisnaught,”sayth shee,“ Iwcause you see He was born in that same cayge— Or caught at a tender ayge.” As if, forsooth, when men were slaves, It added to their glee To have their sires, and eke themselves Born fast in slaveree! Born into slaveree! Buc, 0 this mayde ! This gentil mayde She wore upon her hedde A hatte, the ornaments of which Were bodys of the dedde! Just fragments of the dedde ! The feathers of dedde byrdes she were, Tayles of the slaughtered beasto ; Their lyttel heads her buttons were— She wore a score at leaste — A score of death? at leaste. 0 gentil mayde! O lovely mayde ! With inylde and tender eye ! Why is it for your pleasuring The lyttel ones must dye P These helpless ones must die ! C. I*. Stetson. Girls of to day : Give ear ; Never since Time began lias cotne to the race of man A year, a day, an ho ur, So full of promise and power As the tii it that now is here. Never in all the lands Was there a powei so great To move the wheels of State — To lift up body and mind— To waken the deaf and blind— As the power tha‘ is in your hands. Here at the gates of gold Von stand in the pride of youth, Strong in courage and truth, Stirred by a force k« pt i ack Through centuries long and black — Armed with a power threefold. Truly a girl to-day Is the strongest thing iu life. C. P. Stetson.