Women must weep :: :: University of Virginia Library

“Only a crust of bread!”
“Only a crust of bread!”
Out of the depths where storm-winds fly,
Forth from the darkness came the cry,
Came with a pattering baby-tread;
While idle echoes made reply,
“Only a crust of bread!”

Gaily the feast was spread,
Though feet so tiny bled;
And bright the gas-lit portals flash'd,
As high the waves of pleasure dash'd,
Above that helpless baby-head;
While ask'd white lips, by rainscud dash'd,
“Only a crust of bread!”

Hanging just by a thread,
Life without food or bed,
Lonely as on the mountain moor,
And in a world of riches poor,
With baby-fingers strangely led,
Knock'd at the unknown father's door,
“Only a crust of bread!”

Deserted, thus she pled,
When the fond mother fled
From the cold, grudging earth that gave
No kindness but a nameless grave—
From the great wrong that fortune sped;
And baby language fain would crave,
“Only a crust of bread!”

Sweet eyes, distraught with dread,
A ray of comfort read,
As with the pangs of hunger wild
Totter'd that tender woman-child,
With the great troubled tears unshed,
And called in baby hope that smiled,
“Only a crust of bread!”

The cruel stones were red
With stains, that dumbly said
What baby tongue could never speak;
While lust its passions still might wreak
In waste that fifty mouths had fed,
Though begg'd no wicked breast, but weak,
“Only a crust of bread!”

And he that day was wed,
Who should have borne instead
The penal burden for the sin;
He heard that baby-wail within,
As fell the lifted hand like lead,
That pass'd the cup in festive din—
“Only a crust of bread!”

II.

“Only a crust of bread!”
“Only a crust of bread!”
And the big city felt no smart;
They trod on many a broken heart,
As round they moved with careless tread,
While baby suffering pined apart—
“Only a crust of bread!”

Dainties were freely spread,
If thousands lack'd and bled,
For pamper'd brutes that pick'd and chose;
While want crawl'd to its ghastly close,
And no one saw the baby head,
And no one cared for words like those—
“Only a crust of bread!”

Woven of costly thread
Were purple couch and bed,
Where the rich spoiler lived in state,
With all that appetite could sate,
Though baby feet starvation led,
And sobb'd she from her soilèd fate—
“Only a crust of bread!”

The daughter vainly pled,
While life too surely fled
From the bruised baby frame, that strove—
While the fierce storm against her drove
Its freezing blasts, by mercy sped—
To find some help where others throve—
“Only a crust of bread!”

Sinking with cold and dread,
No pity there she read,
No love in one warm welcoming glance,
As left a baby to chill chance,
From lamps that ill their glory shed;
She moan'd through mocking song and dance—
“Only a crust of bread!”

Why should he lightly wed,
And see his dog was fed,
When his own flesh had bitter need?
And yet he would not, dared not, heed
The curse whose footsteps fell like lead,
The baby cry for its small need—
“Only a crust of bread.”

The rose within was red,
That should have droop'd instead,
And turn'd to ashes pinch'd and pale,
As in the anguish of the gale
That baby form unseen dropp'd dead
And carried home to heaven its tale—
“Only a crust of bread!”