It cannot distinguish between the glow
Of a gleaming star, in the sky of gold,
Or a spent cigar in the dust below -
'Twixt unclad Eve or a wanton bold;
And ever if woman speaks what she feels
(And feels consistent with God's great plan)
It has cast her under its juggernaut wheels,
Since the world began--since the world began.



THE YELLOW-COVERED ALMANAC



I left the farm when mother died and changed my place of dwelling
To daughter Susie's stylish house right on the city street:
And there was them before I came that sort of scared me, telling
How I would find the town folks' ways so difficult to meet;
They said I'd have no comfort in the rustling, fixed-up throng,
And I'd have to wear stiff collars every week-day, right along.

I find I take to city ways just like a duck to water;
I like the racket and the noise and never tire of shows;
And there's no end of comfort in the mansion of my daughter,
And everything is right at hand and money freely flows;
And hired help is all about, just listenin' to my call -
But I miss the yellow almanac off my old kitchen wall.

The house is full of calendars from attic to the cellar,