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<h4 id="id00250" style="margin-top: 2em">JOB WORK</h4>
<p id="id00251">"Write me a rhyme of the present time".<br/>
And the poet took his pen<br/>
And wrote such lines as the miser minds<br/>
Hide in the hearts of men.<br/></p>
<p id="id00252">He grew enthused, as the poets used<br/>
When their fingers kissed the strings<br/>
Of some sweet lyre, and caught the fire<br/>
True inspiration brings,<br/></p>
<p id="id00253">And sang the song of a nation's wrong—<br/>
Of the patriot's galling chain,<br/>
And the glad release that the angel, Peace,<br/>
Has given him again.<br/></p>
<p id="id00254">He sang the lay of religion's sway,<br/>
Where a hundred creeds clasp hands<br/>
And shout in glee such a symphony<br/>
That the whole world understands.<br/></p>
<p id="id00255">He struck the key of monopoly,<br/>
And sang of her swift decay,<br/>
And traveled the track of the railway back<br/>
With a blithesome roundelay—<br/></p>
<p id="id00256">Of the tranquil bliss of a true love kiss;<br/>
And painted the picture, too,<br/>
Of the wedded life, and the patient wife,<br/>
And the husband fond and true;<br/></p>
<p id="id00257">And sang the joy that a noble boy<br/>
Brings to a father's soul,<br/>
Who lets the wine as a mocker shine<br/>
Stagnated in the bowl.<br/></p>
<p id="id00258">And he stabbed his pen in the ink again,<br/>
And wrote with a writhing frown,<br/>
"This is the end." "And now, my friend,<br/>
You may print it—upside down!"<br/></p>
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