As early bearer of the news,
You suffer neighbourhood derision.
The men of property refuse
To countenance your least decision.
Your faith is counted lack of mind
By gossips at the corner store.
The wives who lift the parlour blind
Inspect you with a furtive stare.
They do not heed your warning, or
Accept you as relief from harm;
But they will seek you out before
The daybreak of the first alarm.
Custodian of common sense,
You strip our actions of pretense,
And gauge a generation's mood
And are the harbinger of good.