by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
I was climbing up a mountain-path
With many things to do,
Important business of my own,
And other people's too,
When I ran against a Prejudice
That quite cut off the view.
My work was such as could not wait,
My path quite clearly showed,
My strength and time were limited,
I carried quite a load;
And there that ...view middle of the document...
He smiled, but as for moving! -He didn't even try.
And then I reasoned quietly
With that colossal mule:
My time was short -- no other path -The mountain winds were cool.
I argued like a Solomon;
He sat there like a fool.
Then I flew into a passion,
and I danced and howled and swore.
I pelted and belabored him
Till I was stiff and sore;
He got as mad as I did -But he sat there as before.
And then I begged him on my knees;
I might be kneeling still
If so I hoped to move that mass
Of obdurate ill-will --
As well invite the monument
To vacate Bunker Hill!
So I sat before him helpless,
In an ecstasy of woe -The mountain mists were rising fast,
The sun was sinking slow -When a sudden inspiration came,
As sudden winds do blow.
I took my hat, I took my stick,
My load I settled fair,
I approached that awful incubus
With an absent-minded air -And I walked directly through him,
As if he wasn't there!