[Poems by Gallagher in] The poets and poetry of the West with biographical and critical notices |
 |
| THE BETTER DAY. |
 | [Poems by Gallagher in] The poets and poetry of the West |  |
148
THE BETTER DAY.
Workers high, and workers low,
Weary workers every where,
For the New Age rounding to
Like a planet, now prepare!
Weary workers every where,
For the New Age rounding to
Like a planet, now prepare!
Delver in the deep dark mine,
Where no rays of sunlight shine;
Toiler in unwholesome rooms,
Foul and damp with lingering glooms—
Worker by the hot highway,
In the blinding blaze of day—
Come it cold, or come it hot,
Be of spirit: falter not;
Toil is duty, growth, and gain;
Never wasted—never vain!
Patient, pent-up man-machine,
At the loom and shuttle seen,
Weaving in with nicest art
Throbbings of thy own poor heart,
Till the subtile textures seem
With thy very life to gleam—
Hard the toil, but work away:
Yet shall dawn the Better Day!
Stitcher, by the cradle's side,Where no rays of sunlight shine;
Toiler in unwholesome rooms,
Foul and damp with lingering glooms—
Worker by the hot highway,
In the blinding blaze of day—
Come it cold, or come it hot,
Be of spirit: falter not;
Toil is duty, growth, and gain;
Never wasted—never vain!
Patient, pent-up man-machine,
At the loom and shuttle seen,
Weaving in with nicest art
Throbbings of thy own poor heart,
Till the subtile textures seem
With thy very life to gleam—
Hard the toil, but work away:
Yet shall dawn the Better Day!
Where thy fondest hopes abide,
Working with a heart of might
All the day and half the night,
Often till the east grows red
With the dawning, for thy bread;
Though thou art of feeble limb,
And thine eyes are pained and dim,
Sending off, with every piece
Which thy weary hands release,
Portions of thy life wrought in
With the garment, white and thin—
Work and wait; the end is sure;
Time his offspring will mature:
Work with will, and work away,
Doubting not the Better Day!
Workers high, and workers low,
Weary workers every where,
For the New Age rounding to
Like a planet, now prepare!
149
And the morning dawns at last.
Far behind, the shadows lie
Dark upon the western sky;
While before, the east is gray
Where the harbinger of day,
Rounding up the azure cope,
Flames, the morning-star of Hope!
Be not hasty; be not rash;
Though its beams within you flash
Calm endurance is sublime:
Falter not, but bide your time.
—Weary workers, work away;
God will lead the Better Day!
| [Poems by Gallagher in] The poets and poetry of the West | |