This—for those who told us we would fail,
Who said we’d never last. How they must feel
Today. Another year now stands in file
Of witnesses against them. And we foal
One more to prance our fields, a happy fool!
This, to them who never held a leaf
Together—but for money spent a life.
This, to them who never tore a loaf
To share. To those who sliced theirs thin, aloof.