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.
Six O'clock
Trumbull Stickney
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Poem topics: I love you, city, girl, home, light, sick, snow, strength, human, forsake, tower, cold, bring, frozen, Valentine's Day, stream, poor, I miss you, night, good, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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