English poem
And if in Vain down on the Stubborn Floor
by Carolyn Wells (1862–1942)
And if in Vain down on the Stubborn Floor Of Earth you lie. And weary, cramped and sore, You gaze to-day; you may be jolly sure To-morrow ’twill be worse than ’twas before!
Yesterday’s Troubles made you Mad for fair. To-morrow’s Trials too, will make you Swear. Crank! For you know not What’s the hitch nor Why! Crank! For you know not When you go, nor Where!
Each Morn a Thousand Troubles cause Delay. Yes: but you left Some unfixed Yesterday; And this first Impulse that should bring the Spark— Confound this old Igniter, Anyway!
You Thaw your Freezeless Circulation first; Then mend your Puncture Proof Tire where it Burst. Helpless you Skid upon your Anti-Skids, But Starting a Self-Starter is the Worst!
Perhaps you get out your Repairing-Kit, And try to Regulate the Thing a bit; You test the Coil, adjust the Shifting-Gear,— And then it Goes? Not so you’d Notice it!
And that Inverted Man, who seems to lie Upon the Ground, and Squints with Practis’d Eye. Lift not your Hands to him for Help. For he As impotently works as you or I.