UP from the oven pit,
The hell where poor men toil,
At the sunset hour he comes
Clean-clothed, washed from soil.
On the fo'c's'le head he kneels,
His face to the hallowed West.
He prays, and bows and prays.
Does he pray for death and rest?
A Mahomedan Ship Fireman
Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Poem topics: death, poor, sunset, pray, head, face, clean, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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