Six O'Clock

Now burst above the city's cold twilight The piercing whistles and the tower-clocks: For day is done. Along the frozen docks The workmen set their ragged shirts aright. Thro' factory doors a stream of dingy light Follows the scrimmage as it quickly flocks To hut and home among the snow's gray blocks. -- I love you, human labourers. Good-night! Good-night to all the blackened arms that ache! Good-night to every sick and sweated brow, To the poor girl that strength and love forsake, To the poor boy who can no more! I vow The victim soon shall shudder at the stake And fall in blood: we bring him even now.