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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408734" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Second Class wait here</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">At suburban railway stations--you may see them as you pass--<br>there are signboards on the platform saying 'Wait here second class,'<br>And to me the whirr and thunder and the cluck of running-gear<br>Seem to be forever saying 'Second class wait here--<br>Wait here second class<br>Second class wait here.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Seem to be forever saying, 'Second class wait here.'<br>Yes, the second class were waiting in the days of serf and prince,<br>And the second class are waiting--they've been waiting ever since,<br>There are gardens in the background, and the line is bare and drear,<br>Yet they wait beneath a signboard, sneering 'Second class wait here.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>I have waited oft in winter, in the mornings dark and damp,<br>When the asphalt platform glistened underneath the lonely lamp,<br>Glistened on the brick-faced cutting 'Sellum's Soap' and 'Blower's Beer,'<br>Glistened on enamelled signboards with their 'Second class wait here.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the others seemed like burglars, slouched and muffled to the throats,<br>Standing round apart and silent in their shoddy overcoats;<br>And the wind among the poplars, and the wires that thread the air,<br>Seemed to be forever snarling, snarling 'Second class wait there.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Out beyond a further suburb, 'neath a chimney-stack alone<br>Lay the works of Grinder Brothers, with a platform of their own;<br>And I waited there and suffered, waited there for many a day,<br>Slaved beneath a phantom signboard, telling all my hopes to stay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! a man must feel revengeful for a boyhood such as mine.<br>God! I hate the very houses near the workshop by the line;<br>And the smell of railway stations, and the roar of running gear,<br>And the scornful-seeming signboards, saying 'Second class wait here.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There's a train, with Death for driver, that is ever going past;<br>There will be no class compartments when it's 'all aboard' at last<br>For the long white jasper platform with an Eden in the rear;<br>And there won't be any signboards, saying 'Second class wait here'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Lawson">Henry Lawson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408734" data-title="Second Class wait here de Henry Lawson" data-description="At suburban railway stations--you may see them as you pass--
there are signboards on the platform saying 'Wait here second class,'
And to me the whirr and thunder and the cluck of running-gear
Seem to be forever saying 'Second class wait here--
Wa..."></div>
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