There was a man — in the street — whose name was Job

THE ordinary citizen

Both loves and serves his fellow men,

His patience too is quite immense

As also is his common sense.

So, when a Prelate, in his robes,

Tells him and all the other Jobs

To pull together day by day,

He's apt to scratch his head and say:

"I'm downright glad, my Lord, to tell

We pull together, week-days, well,

And often think what we can do

To pull the same on Sundays too."

And while his Lordship ha's and hum's,

In haste, a second mentor comes,

A stalwart "House of Commons man,"

To comfort Job as best he can.

As thus: "The country's urgent need

Is Fellowship, in word and deed,

In all you say, and all you do,

Co-operate's the word for you."

Says patient Job, "I'm pleased to state

We mostly do co-operate,

And think there won't be half the fuss,

When other Parties act like us."

Comes yet a third, all helpfulness,

A Pillar of the Daily Press:

"Ourselves reiterate Our cry:

`Salvation lies in Unity.'"

Says Job, by now bewildered quite,

"You can't think how we all unite

In wonder, when you shake your fist

At ev'ry rival journalist."

*          *          *

Now does it not occur to each

That Job, in faith and act and speech,

All tortoise-wise is bidding fair

To pilot home the sapient hare?

Nor will the future loom so dim

When three wise men have learned of him

To practice, Press and Church and State,

The precepts they disseminate.

Who hold the greatest powers on earth

To swell and prove a nation's worth,

Will render truest service when

Inspired by Job the citizen.

“The St. Martin’s Review.”