Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing: Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. Touch her not scornfully; Make no deep scrutiny Rash and undutiful : Past all dishonor, Death has left on her Only the beautiful. Loop up her tresses Her fair auburn tresses; Where was her home? Who was her father? Who was her mother? Had she a sister? Had she a brother? Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other? That shattered roof, - and this naked floor, A table, a broken chair, And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank For sometimes falling there! "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. In the dull December light, And work, work, work, When the weather is warm and bright; While underneath the eaves The brooding swallows cling, As if to show me their sunny backs, "Oh! but to breathe the breath Of the cowslip and primrose sweet, With the sky above my head And the grass beneath my feet; For only one short hour To feel as I used to feel Before I knew the woes of want, And the walk that costs a meal! "Oh! for but one short hour, A respite, however brief! No blessed leisure for Love or Hope, |