One of the Unfair Sex

She stood at the ticket-seller’s
  Serenely removing her glove,
While hundreds of strugglers and yellers,
  And some that were good at a shove,
  Were clustered behind her like bats in
    a cave and dissembling their love.

At night she still stood at that window
  Endeavoring her money to reach;
The crowds in her rear, how they sinned⁠—O,
  How dreadfully sinned in their speech!
  Ten miles and a fraction extended their
    line, the historians teach.

She stands there to-day⁠—legislation
  Has failed to remove her. The trains
No longer pull up at that station;
  And over the ghastly remains
  Of the army that waited and died of old
    age fall the snows and the rains.