 | Poems of problems |  |
173
THE MILL
[_]
Great and devastating as are the evils connected with child and woman labor in mills and factories, there must be many a man and woman who finds happiness in the work which these manufactories afford.
It is to voice the feeling which such toilers experience, that this little song is written. And it is sent out with confidence that it will be understood and echoed by the optimistic laborer who finds in his work a means of independence, and an opportunity for the development of his energies.
Something there is in the mill whistle blowing
Sets my blood flowing—
Stirs me with life.
Gives me the feeling of being a part of it,
Hand of it, heart of it,
Ready to plunge in the thick of the strife
As a strong swimmer goes when the seas are rife.
Sets my blood flowing—
Stirs me with life.
Gives me the feeling of being a part of it,
Hand of it, heart of it,
Ready to plunge in the thick of the strife
As a strong swimmer goes when the seas are rife.
Many have said there was pain in the call of it;
I get the thrall of it;
Nerved and made strong,
My hand reaches out for the work that is waiting it;
Loving, not hating it;
Loving the noise, and the rush, and the throng,
Loving the days as they hurry along.
I get the thrall of it;
Nerved and made strong,
174
Loving, not hating it;
Loving the noise, and the rush, and the throng,
Loving the days as they hurry along.
Over the moil and the murk and the grime in it,
Something sublime in it,
Calls to my soul.
Some things that speak of the ceaseless endeavor
For aye and forever,
Moving the Universe on to its goal,
And each of us parcel and part of the whole.
Something sublime in it,
Calls to my soul.
Some things that speak of the ceaseless endeavor
For aye and forever,
Moving the Universe on to its goal,
And each of us parcel and part of the whole.
Oh, there is sorrow, injustice and wrong in it;
But there's a song in it.
All day I hear
Over the din and the discord, the thrill of it,
That's the brave mill of it,
Doing its work without worry or fear
And breathing its message of strength in my ear.
But there's a song in it.
All day I hear
Over the din and the discord, the thrill of it,
That's the brave mill of it,
Doing its work without worry or fear
And breathing its message of strength in my ear.
Happy, I sing to it;
Smiling, I bring to it,
Patience and love, for the tasks that lie near.
Smiling, I bring to it,
Patience and love, for the tasks that lie near.
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