 | Coffin's Poems with Ajax' Ordeals |  |
108
Fashion.
Master of the woman's kingdom,
What is this men say of thee?
Thou art what the woman honors,
Thou art all some care to be!
What is this men say of thee?
Thou art what the woman honors,
Thou art all some care to be!
And they say, you're loved by many,
Loved too often, loved too well,
Just as if there could be any
Over loving in thy swell.
Loved too often, loved too well,
Just as if there could be any
Over loving in thy swell.
Sir, no doubt these dear good people,
Were you not their earthly God,
Could build them a Christian steeple
Up to heaven, without a hod.
Were you not their earthly God,
Could build them a Christian steeple
Up to heaven, without a hod.
You and Solomon the wise man,
Are two fellows of a kind,
Just to please the wants of woman,
You would leave your soul behind.
Are two fellows of a kind,
Just to please the wants of woman,
You would leave your soul behind.
And those sisters that can't catch you,
What a plight they must be in!
For the song you sing oft leads them
To commit an awful sin.
What a plight they must be in!
For the song you sing oft leads them
To commit an awful sin.
Now all wicked aspirations,
Do not spring from souls depraved
Into fashion. Its elation
Is the sanctity it craved.
Do not spring from souls depraved
Into fashion. Its elation
Is the sanctity it craved.
109
In the world's long reign of struggles,
Thou hast played an active part;
Hast thou during all thy journey,
Mended up a broken heart?
Thou hast played an active part;
Hast thou during all thy journey,
Mended up a broken heart?
Thou hast found some so despondent,
Who the name of God despise;
Hast thou tried to once control by
Pointing over to Paradise?
Who the name of God despise;
Hast thou tried to once control by
Pointing over to Paradise?
When thou findest men and women,
Struggling for the higher life,
Dost thou lend a hand to help them?
No, thou causest human strife!
Struggling for the higher life,
Dost thou lend a hand to help them?
No, thou causest human strife!
Woman tries to be thy servant,
Disobeys dame Nature's laws,
Ere she reaches thirty summers,
Shattered frame and sunken jaws.
Disobeys dame Nature's laws,
Ere she reaches thirty summers,
Shattered frame and sunken jaws.
Ere she comes to age of duty,
Her own grave she's quickly dug,
Simply 'cause thy longing beauty,
Keeps her body in a shrug.
Her own grave she's quickly dug,
Simply 'cause thy longing beauty,
Keeps her body in a shrug.
You go with them to the church house,
They do not hear the preacher;
You are all their heart's elation,
You are their Sunday teacher.
They do not hear the preacher;
You are all their heart's elation,
You are their Sunday teacher.
110
Thou hast seized the cross of Jesus,
Loaded it with new born sins;
Overloaded it with folly,
Placed it on His back again,
Loaded it with new born sins;
Overloaded it with folly,
Placed it on His back again,
Thou, in thy domain of pleasure,
Crush the thorns through Jesus' crown;
Making men laugh at His passions,
And the blood that's trickling down.
Crush the thorns through Jesus' crown;
Making men laugh at His passions,
And the blood that's trickling down.
Thou art in the great theatres,
Thou art on the ball room floor;
Thou art in the gambler's dungeon,
Thou dost all men's sorrows know.
Thou art on the ball room floor;
Thou art in the gambler's dungeon,
Thou dost all men's sorrows know.
Thou hast severed many fam'lies,
Children off from home have strayed;
Father sits there broken hearted,
Mother joined thy great parade.
Children off from home have strayed;
Father sits there broken hearted,
Mother joined thy great parade.
Well, no doubt you had your troubles,
Devils blue that fought your hopes;
But you have it back in double,
Woman's kingdom in a lope.
Devils blue that fought your hopes;
But you have it back in double,
Woman's kingdom in a lope.
If your lady love stuck by you,
In the mediaeval day,
Ah! dear fashion, here is to you,
In these times that is the way.
In the mediaeval day,
Ah! dear fashion, here is to you,
In these times that is the way.
111
Always sure you have your glory,
It increases and takes well;
What the end is of thy story,
There's no paragraph to tell.
It increases and takes well;
What the end is of thy story,
There's no paragraph to tell.
At thy feet a million people
Lie today without a breath;
Who, in worshiping thy steeple,
Found an everlasting death.
Lie today without a breath;
Who, in worshiping thy steeple,
Found an everlasting death.
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