All the World’s a Club
A Parody by
All the world’s a club,
And all the girls and women merely joiners:
They have their fancies and their favorites;
And one woman in her time joins many clubs,
Throughout her seven stages. At first, she’s timid;
Draws back and nestles in her quiet home;
And then, the charming young girl, with her note-book.
And sunny, beaming face, walking, like Eve,
Unwittingly to doom. And then, the zealot;
Talking like magpie, with a joyful ballot
Made for her chairman’s glory. Then, a speaker,
Full of strange words, and flurried like the club;
Zealous in instinct, rapid and sure in method.
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the enemy’s glare. And then, the matron,
Her fair, round figure, cloth outside and silk lin’d.
Full of witty quips and modem instances,
And thus she reads her paper. The sixth age leads
Into the gray and silvered devotee,
With lorgnette in hand, and bag at side;
Her youthful gown veil covered, a world too small
For her decorations, and her many badges
Shining in all their gorgeous array, show
Allegiance to her clubs. Last scene of all
That ends this strange, eventful history,
Is daily attendance at each society;
Sans aim, sans love, sans home, sans everything.