Page:When the Leaves Come Out (Chaplin 1917).pdf/26

  So the red imps raced in hellish haste
 * To seek for the very worst.

And when in the stew this soul they threw. ..
 * The Devil groaned and cursed . ..

THAT. . . Newspaper-Truth-raper. . HERE. . . at THIS time. . . ! The lecherous, treacherous creature of slime. . . ! The vomit-brained harlot all scarlet with crime. . . !!!
 * And the Devil groaned and cursed.

Now each poor imp has got to limp,
 * Their bruises ache and swell,

The soul they had was stinking bad—
 * Too rotten rank for hell!

And the caldron hubbled and bubbled and boiled, And the Devil's ravishing treat was spoiled, And he SHRANK from the vapors that curled and coiled—
 * TOO ROTTEN RANK FOR HELL!

  You bolster Exploitation with your creed
 * Though blood upon its whiplash never dries.
 * You do the work of hired thugs and spies;

Like them you serve the System for your "feed." The World's great Wrong cries out: you do not heed,
 * But drivel rot with heaven-uplifted eyes,
 * Then creep away behind a cloud of lies

To kiss the palsied hand of murderous Greed.

This is the work for which you get your pay:
 * To keep the world unchanged in sullen "peace"
 * Where serf-men toil at tasks that never cease,

Heartbrokenly from bitter day to day—
 * The Crime upheld by preachers and police

Where Lust, unhindered, battens on its prey! 