All Day

All day, all day the shuttles fly

     Across the noisy loom;

All day, all day the maidens sigh

     Adown the busy room.

All day, all day the big machines

     And belted pulleys play;

All day, all day the same old scenes,

     All day, all day.

All day, all day the foreman’s eye

     Sweeps o’er the hum-drum place;

All day, all day grim features lie

     Upon his changeless face.

All day, all day a thousand feet

     Tread through the weary way;

All day, all day to labor’s beat

     All day, all day.

All day, all day the bent souls yearn

     For freedom from the toil;

All day, all day the pulleys turn

     Begrimed with dust and oil.

All day, all day. the toilers’ fate,

     ‘Tis drudge or never pay;

All day, all day the endless gait,

All day, all day.

June 26, 1903