Page:All quiet along the Potomac and other poems.djvu/74

68  His temple was the sky above him; His crown the starry one of night; Mingling with publicans and sinners, Hungry and weary by the way, He spoke at first among the lowly The words whose echo lives to-day.





IVE o'clock!&mdash;getting late!&mdash;never mind it a bit; I've a seat in the car, and here I will sit Till my street is announced. I will, I declare!&mdash; I have paid the half-dime&mdash;it is no more than fair.

I've been standing all day in the store and the street; No rest for my limbs or the soles of my feet: I am tired to death&mdash;would not budge for a king, For an emperor, duke, or any such thing.

If a woman comes in&mdash; Why, they shouldn't try For a seat in the cars when the evening is nigh. "Be home before sunset," I tell Rosalie (She's a wife for a pattern; she gets home at three).

They say, to be sure, "I can just as well stand," But they put up a weak little bit of a hand In pursuit of a strap that they find is too high, Settle down on their toes, and give up with a sigh. 