Show 1 1 1 By Edgar U t I F 0 1 1 k KS S J Just S i f A. A Guest THE SCRUBWOMAN The woman who scrubs the floors appears As old as one hundred and forty years Yet though aching and weary her bones must be When I say ay good evening she smiles at atme me Theres There's a band of gold on her finger red The man who placed it there must be dead And I wonder what sorrowful sordid tale Has had its end in that mop and pail Youth and beauty arc are hers no more The close of her hope is a marble floor As she wrings out her mop this thought occurs So life has ha wrung wr g dry dri the dream m of h hers rs 1 |