Skip to main content
O Cook! Domestic Cook! no exhumed stone
In ancient dignity can match thine own.
Crete or Abydos fail to throw their light
So far adown our pro-social night.
Behind the bronze—behind chipped stone we look—
With first discovered fire we find the cook!
That fire, from hearthstone winning wide its place,
Now world-encircling service gives our race;
But thou alone remainest, all unmoved, alone
Tending thy pots around that primal stone
Where once the squaw made moccasins of hide
We web the world in fabrics woven wide;
Where toiled she her poor shelter to erect
Now plans the engineer and architect;
Where the lone crone o'er naked babes held rule
Our children know the college and the school;
Art has arisen, science lights and leads;
Labor enriches life with wondrous deeds;
But while the ages urge us, shock on shock,
Thou standest, changeless as primeval rock—
Unchangeable, immovable—we see
Our race's earliest infancy in thee!
Deaf patience and blind habit; and the dumb
Submission of long ages—these have come
To thee instead of progress. Must thou last
Forever?—type of Paleolithic past!
Rate this poem
No votes yet