Previous: OUR EAST.
UNMENTIONABLE.
There is a thing of which I fain would speak, Yet shun the deed; Lest hot disgust flush the averted cheek Of those who read. And yet it is as common in our sight As dust or grass; Loathed by the lifted skirt, the tiptoe light, Of those who pass. We say no word, but the big placard rests Frequent in view, To sicken those who do not with requests Of those who do. “Gentlemen will not,” the mild placards say. They read with scorn. “Gentlemen must not”—they defile the way Of those who warn. On boat and car the careful lady lifts Her dress aside; If careless—think, fair traveller, of the gifts Of those who ride! On every hall and sidewalk, floor and stair, Where man’s at home, This loathsomeness is added to the care Of those who come. As some foul slug his trail of slime displays On leaf and stalk, These street-beasts make a horror in the ways Of those who walk. We cannot ask reform of those who do— They can’t or won’t. We can express the scorn, intense and true, Of those who don’t.
Previous: OUR EAST.