A Child of the People And Other Poems. By James Chapman Woods |
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 | A Child of the People |  |
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IV.
What thoughts shall maidens have on days like these?
God knows that mine are always sad enough!
To think my joys are of such subtle stuft
As, shrivelling somehow, fades to memories:
To think what burdens bring men to the knees,
And hold them there in flinty ways and rough;
How choose the work there is such surfeit of,
To help the worn-out world unto some peace?
God knows that mine are always sad enough!
To think my joys are of such subtle stuft
As, shrivelling somehow, fades to memories:
To think what burdens bring men to the knees,
And hold them there in flinty ways and rough;
How choose the work there is such surfeit of,
To help the worn-out world unto some peace?
But do not chide; you need no sermon fear:
With no grave words your birthday shall be vexed.
And yet, my maid, if you will deign to hear,
Take with your life begun this saw for text:—
Only the work is noble which is near,
And after, that is noble which is next.
With no grave words your birthday shall be vexed.
And yet, my maid, if you will deign to hear,
Take with your life begun this saw for text:—
Only the work is noble which is near,
And after, that is noble which is next.
| A Child of the People | |