Our Happier Way - A poem by Eleanor M. Denny

Our Happier Way.

We do not stone the prophets any more:
They may stand up
Unchallenged in the market place, and pour
An ominous potion, holding the dread cup
Of wrath to our disdainful lips;
Or come to grips
With all the flaunted evils of our days,
With all the rank dishonor of the hour,
Wielding their lash of truth with passionate power,
Fury that flays
The unwrung withers of the innocent:
With heads unbent
We guilty go our way, treading the path
Of ruin's aftermath^___
Doom pregnant with the fate our own deeds bore.

Long since, in the benighted days of yore,
Our fathers tore them;
We do not stone the prophets any more:
We but ignore them.

^__Eleanor M. Denny, Kansas City, Missouri

Contemporary Kansas Poetry
Helen Rhoda Hoopes
page 47
(Kansas City: Joseph D. Havens Company. 1927)