They must sacrifice their beauty
Who would do their civic duty,
Who the polling booth would enter,
Who the ballot box would use;
As they drop their ballots in it
Men and women in a minute,
Lose their charm, the antis tell us,
But--the men have less to lose.
("Our laws have not yet reached the point of holding that property which is the result of the husband's earnings and the wife's savings becomes their joint property.... In this most important of all partnerships there is no partnership property."--_Recent decision of the New York Supreme Court_.)
Lady, lovely lady, come and share
All my care;
Oh how gladly I will hurry
To confide my every worry
(And they're very dark and drear)
In your ear.
Lady, share the praise I obtain
Now and again;
Though I'm shy, it doesn't matter,
Highly recommended for all people who believe passionately in the equality of all human beings.
Charming lady, work no more;
Fair you are and sweet as honey;
Work might make your fingers sore,
And, besides, I need the money.
Prithee rest,--or starve or rob--
Only let me have your job!
Subtitled "A Book of Rhymes for Suffrage Times," this wry text champions the cause of women's equality at the ballot box and in the workplace. It's been 95 years but the second still eludes us.
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