The Lady in the Furs

"I'm a lofty lovely woman,"
      Says the lady in the furs,
In the glance she throws around her
      On the poorer dames and sirs:
"This robe, that cost three figures,
      Yes, is mine," her nod avers.

"True, my money did not buy it,
      But my husband's, from the trade;
And they, they only got it
      From things feeble and afraid
By murdering them in ambush
      With a cunning engine's aid.

"True, my hands, too, did not shape it
      To the pretty cut you see,
But the hands of midnight workers
      Who are strangers quite to me:
It was fitted, too, by dressers
      Ranged around me toilsomely.

"But I am a lovely lady,
      Though sneerers say I shine
By robbing Nature's children
      Of apparel not mine,
And that I am but a broom-stick,
      Like a scarecrow's wooden spine."