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Carl Hamblin

 The press of the Spoon River Clarion was wrecked,
And I was tarred and feathered,
For publishing this on the day the Anarchists were hanged in Chicago:
"I saw a beautiful woman with bandaged eyes
Standing on the steps of a marble temple.
Great multitudes passed in front of her, Lifting their faces to her imploringly.
In her left hand she held a sword.
She was brandishing the sword, Sometimes striking a child, again a laborer, Again a slinking woman, again a lunatic.
In her right hand she held a scale; Into the scale pieces of gold were tossed By those who dodged the strokes of the sword.
A man in a black gown read from a manuscript: 'She is no respecter of persons.
' Then a youth wearing a red cap Leaped to her side and snatched away the bandage.
And lo, the lashes had been eaten away From the oozy eye-lids; The eye-balls were seared with a milky mucus; The madness of a dying soul Was written on her face -- But the multitude saw why she wore the bandage.

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