 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
792
DONNA QUIXOTE.
A champion I've been of the poor,
Since I began to weep,
And how to brighten their dark door
I babbled in my sleep;
I did not care for dainty dolls,
However long their hair,
And most excruciating Polls
To me were nowise fair;
Unlike all babes, I used to lothe
The bottle and the bibs,
And only dreamed that I could clothe
The babes in ragged cribs.
Since I began to weep,
And how to brighten their dark door
I babbled in my sleep;
I did not care for dainty dolls,
However long their hair,
And most excruciating Polls
To me were nowise fair;
Unlike all babes, I used to lothe
The bottle and the bibs,
And only dreamed that I could clothe
The babes in ragged cribs.
And ere I cut a single tooth,
I formed such serious plans
Of grants for beggars and Maynooth,
And broth in public pans;
Free education was my cry,
When first I practised thought,
And whence the State could best supply,
Old women news for nought;
I knew what perils lurked in beer,
While yet in girlish frocks,
And could (with any Premier) steer
Our country on the rocks.
I formed such serious plans
Of grants for beggars and Maynooth,
And broth in public pans;
Free education was my cry,
When first I practised thought,
And whence the State could best supply,
Old women news for nought;
I knew what perils lurked in beer,
While yet in girlish frocks,
And could (with any Premier) steer
Our country on the rocks.
My name is Donna Quixote, sir,
On platforms am I seen,
And ther's a little glow or stir,
Wherever I have been;
In each grand MOVEMENT do I take
A fine and foremost part,
And with my breezy whisper, shake
The masses' mighty heart;
I play with statesmen as with straws,
Who would the people rob,
And oft appeal from unjust laws
Unto the glorious MOB.
On platforms am I seen,
And ther's a little glow or stir,
Wherever I have been;
In each grand MOVEMENT do I take
A fine and foremost part,
And with my breezy whisper, shake
The masses' mighty heart;
I play with statesmen as with straws,
Who would the people rob,
And oft appeal from unjust laws
Unto the glorious MOB.
I have a Journal, too, to hold
The grounds whereon I stand,
And maxims great, by which I mould
The nation to my hand;
I flutter in the highest ranks,
And air new social creeds,
And grateful Princes murmur thanks
For all my noble deeds;
I don't believe in very much,
Though Spencer is my Sage
With Evolution, and of such
I build the Golden Age.
The grounds whereon I stand,
And maxims great, by which I mould
The nation to my hand;
I flutter in the highest ranks,
And air new social creeds,
And grateful Princes murmur thanks
For all my noble deeds;
I don't believe in very much,
Though Spencer is my Sage
With Evolution, and of such
I build the Golden Age.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |