Uploaded September 2025 | Updated September 2026, 2 days ago
I once was a school teacher,
Lived on the planet Earth.
My job was good, and it paid the bills,
But little was it worth.
I had civil rights up to my ears,
And I did just as I pleased,
But the right to speak and the right to vote
They left me ill at ease.
So poor was I, but free was I,
And I did as I willed.
But strange to say, I was oft dismayed,
And never felt fulfilled.
I'll not wear miniskirts,
I'll never speak my mind,
I've bound my soul to a Vulcan lord,
I walk ten paces behind.
But every seven years or so,
And oft more frequently,
My stern liege lord has desperate need of me!
There's a statue on the Planet Earth,
And tall and grand is she.
She bears a torch, and her nose is Greek.
They call her Liberty.
And oft I strayed there at her feet,
In sunshine and in mist,
What use the right to speak you mind
When no one to you lists?
I worshiped her and I gave alms
To the beggars at her feet.
But much as I tried, I felt no pride,
For I was incomplete.
One day an ambassador came to us,
From the Planet of Surak,
Young and pale, unsure and frail,
Authority he lacked.
Then rumors strange flew on the breeze,
Their truth I did suspect,
That Vulcan men could never lie,
And had no need of sex.
So with interest keen on the tele-screen
We watched him, women all,
Give interview to a TV shrew,
We longed to see him fall.
His mission here, as the news made clear,
Was a treaty to procure,
Between Vulcan and Terra to end an era,
Whose outcome was unsure.
For uneasy peace would one day cease,
It could not long endure,
Unless formal pact secured with tact,
Our differences could cure,
But Vulcans they are men of peace
And will not fight, they say.
So it seemed to all, little could befall.
For we'd win anyway!
“What happens,” asked the TV shrew,
“If a space war should break out?
“Between Earth and its foes as goodness knows,
“Will happen without doubt.
“So if we were to sign your treaty, sir,
“How would we be repaid?
“Interstellar war is bloody and sore,
“Would Vulcan come to aid?”
The Vulcan stirred and cleared his throat,
“Oh, that you well should know,
:We Vulcans never fight,” he said,
“The answer's therefore 'No'!:
When I heard this, my eyes did mist,
And I laughed till I was sore.
He had no more sense in his world's defense
Than an honest child of four.
A week did pass, and I came at last,
To pray at Liberty's feet,
Like the Vulcan pure on an organized tour,
Twas there we twain did meet.
We chanced to speak of civil rights,
And he turned his eyes on me,
There was such a spark in those orbs so dark,
As I never before did see,
I'll not wear miniskirts,
I'll never speak my mind,
I've bound my soul to a Vulcan lord,
I walk ten paces behind.
But every seven years or so,
And oft more frequently,
My stern liege lord has desperate need of me!
I learned much of him as we walked alone,
And as the day progressed,
Little knew he of diplomacy,
and even less of sex.
“How came you here to this strange career?
“No diplomat are you.”
“My fathers chose my livelihood,
“There's nought else I could do.”
Then I pitied him, as I pitied me,
And the Universe at large,
And I swore to help this Vulcan whelp,
And took him under my charge.
There's an old Earth jest that fit us best.
I told it to my guest:
When a lady says “No” she means “Perhaps,”
And her “Perhaps” is “Yes”.
A diplomat when he says “Yes”
Means a Perhaps and so,
If he snaps out a “Perhaps”
That's when he's saying “No,”
A lady, should she ever say “Yes”
No lady then is she,
And a diplomat who utters “No”
Knows no diplomacy.
He listened well to what I did tell,
And he took good note,
For when next he was seen on the telescreen,
He knew it all by rote.
His work on Earth was nearly done,
I hoped to see him no more,
When one cold night, he gave me a fright,
By banging on my door.
“What they say of us is nearly true,”
He spoke low and in haste,
“We are sworn to truth from our youth,
“And our lives are pure and chaste.”
“Save that once in seven years,” quoth he,
“We must take a mate or die.”
No diplomat was he that night,
And no lady – I.
I was filled with doubt when I found out
I bore his child in me.
His voice so grim bid me marry him,
His sworn bondswoman to be.
What of my civil rights, thought I,
The life that I had planned,
For those of my kind are little inclined
To live at a lord's command.
Then long I thought on the rights I had,
The things I held most dear,
To cast one vote in a billion or more,
To speak where none would hear.
The Vulcan man was the only one
To listen when I spoke.
He had need of me and that might be
The reason my will broke.
So I said goodbye to Liberty
The Vulcan's bride to be.
Mine was a move that would be approved
By the ancient Phyllis Schlafly.
I once was a school teacher,
Lived on the planet Earth.
My job was good, and it paid the bills,
But little was it worth.
I had civil rights up to my ears,
And I did just as I pleased,
But the right to speak and the right to vote
They left me ill at ease.
So poor was I, but free was I,
And I did as I willed.
But strange to say, I was oft dismayed,
And never felt fulfilled.
I'll not wear miniskirts,
I'll never speak my mind,
I've bound my soul to a Vulcan lord,
I walk ten paces behind.
But every seven years or so,
And oft more frequently,
My stern liege lord has desperate need of me!
There's a statue on the Planet Earth,
And tall and grand is she.
She bears a torch, and her nose is Greek.
They call her Liberty.
And oft I strayed there at her feet,
In sunshine and in mist,
What use the right to speak you mind
When no one to you lists?
I worshiped her and I gave alms
To the beggars at her feet.
But much as I tried, I felt no pride,
For I was incomplete.
One day an ambassador came to us,
From the Planet of Surak,
Young and pale, unsure and frail,
Authority he lacked.
Then rumors strange flew on the breeze,
Their truth I did suspect,
That Vulcan men could never lie,
And had no need of sex.
So with interest keen on the tele-screen
We watched him, women all,
Give interview to a TV shrew,
We longed to see him fall.
His mission here, as the news made clear,
Was a treaty to procure,
Between Vulcan and Terra to end an era,
Whose outcome was unsure.
For uneasy peace would one day cease,
It could not long endure,
Unless formal pact secured with tact,
Our differences could cure,
But Vulcans they are men of peace
And will not fight, they say.
So it seemed to all, little could befall.
For we'd win anyway!
“What happens,” asked the TV shrew,
“If a space war should break out?
“Between Earth and its foes as goodness knows,
“Will happen without doubt.
“So if we were to sign your treaty, sir,
“How would we be repaid?
“Interstellar war is bloody and sore,
“Would Vulcan come to aid?”
The Vulcan stirred and cleared his throat,
“Oh, that you well should know,
:We Vulcans never fight,” he said,
“The answer's therefore 'No'!:
When I heard this, my eyes did mist,
And I laughed till I was sore.
He had no more sense in his world's defense
Than an honest child of four.
A week did pass, and I came at last,
To pray at Liberty's feet,
Like the Vulcan pure on an organized tour,
Twas there we twain did meet.
We chanced to speak of civil rights,
And he turned his eyes on me,
There was such a spark in those orbs so dark,
As I never before did see,
I'll not wear miniskirts,
I'll never speak my mind,
I've bound my soul to a Vulcan lord,
I walk ten paces behind.
But every seven years or so,
And oft more frequently,
My stern liege lord has desperate need of me!
I learned much of him as we walked alone,
And as the day progressed,
Little knew he of diplomacy,
and even less of sex.
“How came you here to this strange career?
“No diplomat are you.”
“My fathers chose my livelihood,
“There's nought else I could do.”
Then I pitied him, as I pitied me,
And the Universe at large,
And I swore to help this Vulcan whelp,
And took him under my charge.
There's an old Earth jest that fit us best.
I told it to my guest:
When a lady says “No” she means “Perhaps,”
And her “Perhaps” is “Yes”.
A diplomat when he says “Yes”
Means a Perhaps and so,
If he snaps out a “Perhaps”
That's when he's saying “No,”
A lady, should she ever say “Yes”
No lady then is she,
And a diplomat who utters “No”
Knows no diplomacy.
He listened well to what I did tell,
And he took good note,
For when next he was seen on the telescreen,
He knew it all by rote.
His work on Earth was nearly done,
I hoped to see him no more,
When one cold night, he gave me a fright,
By banging on my door.
“What they say of us is nearly true,”
He spoke low and in haste,
“We are sworn to truth from our youth,
“And our lives are pure and chaste.”
“Save that once in seven years,” quoth he,
“We must take a mate or die.”
No diplomat was he that night,
And no lady – I.
I was filled with doubt when I found out
I bore his child in me.
His voice so grim bid me marry him,
His sworn bondswoman to be.
What of my civil rights, thought I,
The life that I had planned,
For those of my kind are little inclined
To live at a lord's command.
Then long I thought on the rights I had,
The things I held most dear,
To cast one vote in a billion or more,
To speak where none would hear.
The Vulcan man was the only one
To listen when I spoke.
He had need of me and that might be
The reason my will broke.
So I said goodbye to Liberty
The Vulcan's bride to be.
Mine was a move that would be approved
By the ancient Phyllis Schlafly.
