Comrade Jesus

 a poem by Sarah N. Cleghorn, 1876-1959

Thanks to Saint Matthew, who had been

At mass-meetings in Palestine,

We know whose side was spoken for

When Comrade Jesus had the floor.

“Where sore they toil and hard they lie,

Among the great unwashed, dwell I,–

The tramp, the convict, I am he;

Cold-shoulder him, cold-shoulder me”

Between the twilights of his end,

He made his fellow-felon friend:

With swollen tongue and blinded eyes, 

Invited him to Paradise.

Ah, let no Local him refuse!

Comrade Jesus hath paid his dues.

Whatever other be debarred

Comrade Jesus hath his red card.

    

                                                        This is a photo of Ms. Cleghorn

I’ve left out four stanzas, but you get the idea.  This is in honor of May 1, a traditional day for lefties all around the world.