Of my city the worst that men will ever say is this: You took little children away from the sun and the dew, And the glimmers that played in the grass under the great sky, And the reckless rain; you put them between walls To work, broken and smothered, for bread and wages, To eat dust in their throats and die empty-hearted For a little handful of pay on a few Saturday nights. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LANDSCAPE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE DESERTED HOUSE by ALFRED TENNYSON DEAD LOVE by MARY MATHEWS ADAMS FEAR AND LOVE by EGMONT HEGEL ARENS AN ADDRESS TO THE DEITY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD EXODUS 15. SONG OF ISRAEL FOR THE OVERTHROW OF EGYPT IN THE RED SEA by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 16 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |