ALL day work in the shops, The weary tread Of toil that knows no change, And this is bread. At night when work is done, Her hand in mine, The hope of happier days, And this is wine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 34 by JAMES JOYCE SONG OF THE LITTLE WHITE GIRL by KATHERINE MANSFIELD AT SAGAMORE HILL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS BOTANICAL GARDENS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE RUSSIAN ARMY GOES INTO BAKU by ALICIA SUSKIN OSTRIKER |