Previous: A CONSERVATIVE.
AN OBSTACLE.
I was climbing up a mountain-path With many things to do, Important business of my own, And other people’s too, When I ran against a Prejudice That quite cut off the view. My work was such as could not wait, My path quite clearly showed, My strength and time were limited, I carried quite a load; And there that hulking Prejudice Sat all across the road. So I spoke to him politely, For he was huge and high, And begged that he would move a bit And let me travel by. He smiled, but as for moving!— He didn’t even try. And then I reasoned quietly With that colossal mule: My time was short—no other path— The mountain winds were cool. I argued like a Solomon; He sat there like a fool. Then I flew into a passion, I danced and howled and swore. I pelted and belabored him Till I was stiff and sore; He got as mad as I did— But he sat there as before. And then I begged him on my knees; I might be kneeling still If so I hoped to move that mass Of obdurate ill-will— As well invite the monument To vacate Bunker Hill! So I sat before him helpless, In an ecstasy of woe— The mountain mists were rising fast, The sun was sinking slow— When a sudden inspiration came, As sudden winds do blow. I took my hat, I took my stick, My load I settled fair, I approached that awful incubus With an absent-minded air— And I walked directly through him, As if he wasn’t there!
Previous: A CONSERVATIVE.