Explore "Ballade of the Traffickers" by Franklin P. Adams on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Up goes the price of our bread -- / Up goes the cost of our caking!
People must ever be fed; / Bakers must ever be baking.
So, though our nerves may be quaking, / Dumbly, in arrant despair, / Pay we the crowd that is taking / All that the traffic will bear.
Costly to sleep in a bed!
Costlier yet to be waking!
Costly for one who is wed!
Ruinous for one who is raking!
Tradespeople, ducking and draking, / Charge you as much as they dare, / Asking, without any faking, / All that the traffic will bear.
Roof that goes over our head, / Thirst so expensive for slaking, / Paper, apparel, and lead -- / Why are their prices at breaking?
Yet, though our purses be aching, / Little the traffickers care; / Getting, for chopping and steaking, / All that the traffic will bear.
L'ENVOI
Take thou my verses, I pray, King, / Letting my guerdon be fair.
Even a bard must be making / All that the traffic will bear.