On dusty roads and streets there prowl
Bent riders perched on noiseless wheels;
Misshapen things with mannish scowl;
Strange crafts with unknown bows and keels;
Queer fish enmeshed in Folly’s net;
Scare human, flesh, or fowl—scarce yet
Red herring, flesh, or fowl.
Yoho! O’er the hills and far away,
My broncho spurns the gravel slope;
This is the ride for a man alway;
The valleys at gallop, the hills at a lope;
Who would exchange for the senseless wheel
The life and strength that the horsemen feel?
Life, and strength, and hope.
(Houston Daily Post, Sunday morning, April 26, 1896.)
The Modern Venus
The golden apple Paris gave
To the most beautiful,
To the fairest Aphrodite fell,
Although she had no pull.
She did not need to plead her cause,
Nor canvass, sue or beg;
She did not run her rivals down,
Nor pull her best friend’s leg.
She stood in beauteous youthfulness,
Incarnate rose of love;
When Paris held the apple forth
She did not scrouge or shove.
Alas! our modern Venuses
Far different methods use
To gain the palm of loveliness
Whenever one we choose.
Towns, churches and societies
Now offer prizes rare
To one among the pretty girls
Who is adjudged most fair.
Our modern Venus hustles forth
And campaigns all the town,
And begs men to buy votes for her;
Smith, Johnson, Jones and Brown.