The world is bored with silly pride, 
As well as lazy asses, 
Who raise their noses with disdain 
At all the working classes. 

I wonder they are not too proud 
To own their great Creator, 
For being “mean” enough to work, 
And thus become their Maker. 

Work built the palaces they own, 
Provides their daily feeding; 
And yet they think contempt for work 
A proof of their good breeding. 

Girls let their mothers toil and slave, 
Will such poor things their duty do 
That they may play like ladies; 
To their poor little babies? 

They keep their parties quite select, 
Yet oft they dread a panic; 
And thank their stars when they escape 
“The smell of a mechanic.” 

God help the man who for a wife 
Gets one of these fine ladies; 
No wonder if her husband courts 
The girls that nurse the babies. 

Young college gents talk knowingly 
Of the “old man” and “woman,” 
As tho’ old folks were common clay, 
And young ones superhuman. 
 
God save the world from learned dolts 
From proud and lazy asses, 
Who raise their noses with disdain 
At all the working classes.