University of Virginia Library

THE NEW WOMAN—

The woman are wearing britches now;
You can't tell one from the other.
She's tumbled down from her lofty throne
To man, down in the gutter.
There she's smoking, drinking, gambling,
The world stands aghast, chagrined,
The human race is turning backward,
And is on the downward trend.
The winding circle of cigar's smoke
Doesn't measure the height of manhood's yoke,
Nor can a filthy cigarette butt
Elevate a woman out of the rut.
Woman, who's upheld the moral code
During all the centuries past,
Has turned things topsy turvy,
And the world stands by aghast.
The child is born from a cigarette body,
Its first caresses from a lip soaked tardy.
As goes woman, so go morals.
Where is the race to get its laurels?
Oh! If I had a voice, a persuasive voice,
I'd penetrate the heart of woman
And show her how this moral world
Is hanging now upon her omen.
O woman, have you any heart,
And did you ever sigh?
And did your senses ever start
At the future's wailing cry?
O woman, won't you help us
To pray to your Almighty God
To help remove this stumbling block
Ere we it all absorb?
O woman, just for childhood's sake
With one good hearty throb,
Won't you help us pray one prayer
To your Almighty God?
O God! give us a little faith,
And into this darkness
That's getting deeper every day,
Oh, send a light of rest!
All hopes deal with the future, Lord,
We hope for better days,
And while we're drifting down the tide,
Show us the right way.
Laurels of this world are sweet,
But they soon pass away.
The child's laurels are dark right now.
Can't we brighten the forthcoming days?