A SLIGHT ADAPTATION.
(Suggested by the recent Debate (Ladies only) at the Pioneers Club on the Shortcomings of the Male Sex.)
Nova mulier vociferatur more Whitmanico.
Come my modern women,
Follow me this evening, get your numbers ready,
Have you got your latchkeys? have you your members' axes?
Pioneers! O Pioneers!
To the club in Bruton Street
We must march my darlings, one and all a great ensemble,
We the strenuous lady champions, all extremely up to date,
Pioneers! O Pioneers!
O you girls, West-End girls,
O you young revolting daughters, full of manly pride and manners,
Plain I see you West-End girls (no reflection on your features!).
Pioneers! O Pioneers!
Have our lords and masters halted?
Do they humbly take a back-seat, wearied out with Madame Sarah Grand?
We take up the dual garments, and the eyeglass and the cycle.
Pioneers! O Pioneers!
From North Hampstead, from South Tooting,
From far Peckham, from the suburbs and the shires we come,
All the dress of comrades noting, bonnets, fashions criticising,
Pioneers! O Pioneers!
We primeval fetters loosing,
We our husbands taming, vexing we and worrying Mrs. Grundy,
We our own lives freely living, we as bachelor-girls residing,
Pioneers! O Pioneers!
Literary dames are we,
Singers, speakers, temperance readers, artists we and journalists,
Here and there a festive actress (generally to be found in our smoking-room),
Pioneers! O Pioneers!
Raise the mighty mistress President,
Waving high the delicate President, over all the Lady President (bend your heads all),
Raise the warlike Mrs. M-ss-ngb-d, stern impassive Mrs. M-ss-ngb-d,
Pioneers! O Pioneers!
This sort of thing goes on for about twenty more verses, for which readers are kindly referred to the original in Leaves of Grass. It really applies without any further adaptation.