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 BOOK [OF THE WORLD] by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN THE SUPPLIANT by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE ROMANCE by WALTER JAMES REDFERN TURNER LEGEND by JOHN VAN ALSTYN WEAVER THE RHYME OF SIR LAUNCELOT BOGLE; A LEGEND OF GLASGOW by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN LOVE'S POWER by WINIFRED LANGWORTHY BROWN |