Stones from The Quarry | ||
111
THE BALLOT.
With the old-fashioned Jury-box—so old,The oldest antiquary could invent
Scarce anything more to his heart's content—
We've got the Ballot-box, where Truth blindfold
As Justice, need not blush at nor behold
Attempts to frighten, bribe, or circumvent
Our model voter, but, tho' somewhat pent,
Nestle, and turn up her sweet nose at gold!
Alas! 'tis all “about it and about it.”
Shams, substitutes in place of the real thing.
As a bad woman careth not a whit
For virtue, but unto its name will cling!
O Honesty! Man's pride! thy clothes fools fit
Lay-figures with, but thyself thou must bring!
Stones from The Quarry | ||