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.