I much esteem the rubber-stamp cartoons,
Symbols of paleozoic pedigree --
Age-battered emblems that for moons and
moons
Have roused my righteous wrath or gurgling
glee:
Stern Justice with her Scales and Snicker
snee,
The Horn of Plenty stuffed with plums and
pears
And hothouse grapes, in wild luxuriancy,
The dear old Paper Cap that Labor wears.
Dear to my heart as dim remembered runes
Of childhood twittered from a nurse s knee.
Are Uncle Sam s starred Hat and Panta
loons,
The Ship of State, the Snake of Anarchy,
The smoking stacks of good old Industry,
The tyrant Trust that nought and no one
spares
All these I cherish, one especially--
The dear old Paper Cap that Labor wears.
Fresh as the dew upon a peck of prunes,
Green as Joe Miller s jocund jeux d' esprit --
So fresh, so green those mossy old lampoons
That never fail to make a hit with me:
The Dinner Pail, the Presidential Bee,
Oblivion s Chasm, to which the dead one
fares,
And rooted like an oak in memory --
The dear old Paper Cap that Labor wears.
Immortal lid, I lift my own to thee!
Tenacious lid, that Time nor dents nor tears!
Symbol encrusted with antiquity! --
The dear old Paper Cap that Labor wears.
