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Page 136 - Work, work, work! From weary chime to chime ; Work, work, work, As prisoners work for crime : Band and gusset and seam, Seam and gusset and band, Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumbed, As well as the weary hand.
Page 136 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags Plying her needle and thread — Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! In poverty, hunger and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the rich ! She sang this "Song of the Shirt.
Page 136 - But why do I talk of Death ? That phantom of grisly bone ? I hardly fear his terrible shape, It seems so like my own — It seems so like my own, Because of the fasts I keep ; Oh, God! that bread should be so dear, And flesh and blood so cheap...
Page 136 - Work — work — work, Till the brain begins to swim; Work — work — work, Till the eyes are heavy and dim! Seam, and gusset, and band, Band, and gusset, and seam, Till over the buttons I fall asleep, And sew them on in a dream! "Oh, Men, with Sisters dear! Oh, Men, with Mothers and Wives! It is not linen you're wearing out, But human creatures
Page 186 - And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them : and his disciples rebuked those that brought them. But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not : for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein. And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them.
Page 136 - Work - work work Till the brain begins to swim! Work - work - work Till the eyes are heavy and dim! Seam , and gusset , and band , Band , and gusset , and seam , Till over the buttons I fall asleep, And sew them on in a dream! "O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is not linen you're wearing out , But human creatures
Page 184 - I'll sell it, whatsoe'er it bring ; — The World at Auction here to-day ! • It is a glorious thing to see ; Ah, it has cheated me so sore ! It is not what it seems to be : For sale ! It shall be mine no more.
Page 48 - neath the eaves Essayed to make a nest, and there did bring Wet earth and straw and leaves. Day after day she toiled With patient art, but ere her work was crowned, Some sad mishap the tiny fabric spoiled. And dashed it to the ground. She found the ruin wrought...
Page 120 - The green earth was moist with the late fallen showers, The breeze fluttered down and blew open the flowers, While a single white cloud to its haven of rest On the white wing of peace, floated off in the west. As I threw back my tresses to catch the cool breeze, That scattered the rain-drops and dimpled the seas, Far up the blue sky a fair rainbow unrolled Its soft-tinted pinions of purple and gold.