Now burst above the city's cold twilight <br />The piercing whistles and the tower-clocks: <br />For day is done. Along the frozen docks <br />The workmen set their ragged shirts aright. <br />Thro' factory doors a stream of dingy light <br />Follows the scrimmage as it quickly flocks <br />To hut and home among the snow's gray blocks. -- <br />I love you, human labourers. Good-night! <br />Good-night to all the blackened arms that ache! <br />Good-night to every sick and sweated brow, <br />To the poor girl that strength and love forsake, <br />To the poor boy who can no more! I vow <br />The victim soon shall shudder at the stake <br />And fall in blood: we bring him even now.<br /><br />Trumbull Stickney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/six-o-clock/
