16
LABOR IS PRAYER.
LABOR IS PRAYER.
ABORARE est orare:We, black-visaged sons of toil,
From the coal-mine and the anvil
And the delving of the soil,—
From the loom, the wharf, the warehouse,
And the ever-whirling mill,
Out of grim and hungry silence
Raise a weak voice small and shrill;—
Laborare est orare:
Man, dost hear us? God, He will.
We who just can keep from starving
Sickly wives,—not always mild:
Trying not to curse Heaven's bounty
When it sends another child,—
We who, worn-out, doze on Sundays
O'er the Book we strive to read,
Cannot understand the parson
Or the catechism and creed.
Laborare est orare:—
Then, good sooth, we pray indeed.
Sickly wives,—not always mild:
Trying not to curse Heaven's bounty
When it sends another child,—
We who, worn-out, doze on Sundays
O'er the Book we strive to read,
Cannot understand the parson
Or the catechism and creed.
Laborare est orare:—
Then, good sooth, we pray indeed.
We, poor women, feeble-natured,
Large of heart, in wisdom small,
Large of heart, in wisdom small,
