Six O'Clock

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