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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373810" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Henry Phipps</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373810" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I was the Sunday school superintendent,<br>The dummy president of the wagon works<br>And the canning factory,<br>Acting for Thomas Rhodes and the banking clique;<br>My son the cashier of the bank,<br>Wedded to Rhodes' daughter,<br>My week day spent in making money,<br>My Sundays at church and in prayer.<br>In everything a cog in the wheel of things-as-they-are:<br>Of money, master and man, made white<br>With the paint of the Christian creed.<br>And then:<br>The bank collapsed. I stood and looked at the wrecked machine --<br>The wheels with blow-holes stopped with putty and painted;<br>The rotten bolts, the broken rods;<br>And only the hopper for souls fit to be used again<br>In a new devourer of life, when newspapers, judges and money-magicians<br>Build over again.<br>I was stripped to the bone, but I lay in the Rock of Ages,<br>Seeing now through the game, no longer a dupe,<br>And knowing "the upright shall dwell in the land<br>But the years of the wicked shall be shortened."<br>Then suddenly, Dr. Meyers discovered<br>A cancer in my liver.<br>I was not, after all, the particular care of God!<br>Why, even thus standing on a peak<br>Above the mists through which I had climbed,<br>And ready for larger life in the world,<br>Eternal forces<br>Moved me on with a push.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Edgar+Lee+Masters">Edgar Lee Masters</a></strong></div>