In its endeavor to help wheat-growers to the extent of two millions, the Federal Government, in place of a flour tax involving an increase of 2d. for the 4lb. loaf, proposes to borrow the money and leave the bill to posterity.
Babe of some unseen morrow A century away, Look not in scornful sorrow Upon our acts today -- We poor mutts who now borrow What you poor mutts must pay. Nor think that our position Thus forces us to owe; Our sources of nutrition Are certainly not low; It is the politician Who does this thing you know. Indeed, our own Depression Its lesson should have taught When, thro' past indiscretion, Our hopes were brought to nought, But now, in Debt's progression, You're caught, as we were caught. And yet, take heart Descendant, Son of our son's son's son. As our sires were dependent On us, do as we've done: Live well, if not resplendent, And pass along the fun. So, to fresh generations Just pass along the debt, Their far-off lamentations Won't reach you. So, why fret? Posterity's long patience Has not been measured yet. Time flies, man dies, and moulders. Who knows what numbers wait? Some superman, who shoulders The debt, may yet play straight, And ultimate bond-holders Collect the aggregate.
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2002|