As we come marching, marching, in the beauty of the day, <br />A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill-lofts gray <br />Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses, <br />For the people hear us singing, 'Bread and Roses, Bread and Roses.' <br /> <br />As we come marching, marching, we battle, too, for men- <br />For they are women's children and we mother them again. <br />Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes- <br />Hearts starve as well as bodies: Give us Bread, but give us Roses! <br /> <br />As we come marching, marching, unnumbered women dead <br />Go crying through our singing their ancient song of Bread; <br />Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew- <br />Yes, bread we fight for-but we fight for Roses, too. <br /> <br />As we come marching, marching, we bring the Greater Days- <br />The rising of the women means the rising of the race- <br />No more the drudge and idler-ten that toil where one reposes- <br />But sharing of life's glories: Bread and Roses, Bread and Roses!<br /><br />James Oppenheim<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bread-and-roses-2/
