 | The poems and stories of Fitz-James O'Brien |  |
99
XIII.
The work-girl sat in her attic room,Cold and silent, and wrapped in gloom;
There was no longer a glimmer of day,
And the Sewing Bird still on the table lay.
The voice was silent that once had sung,
And silent forever the silver tongue;
But she pondered long on the strange decree
That she, wherever she turned, must see
Men in the places where women should be!
| The poems and stories of Fitz-James O'Brien | |