WE only know that in the sultry weather, Men toiled for us as in the steaming room, And in our minds we hardly set together The bondman's penance and the freeman's loom. We never thought the jealous gods would store For us ill deeds of time-forgotten graves, Nor heeded that the May-Flower one day bore A freight of pilgrims, and another slaves. First on the bold upholders of the wrong, And last on us, the heavy-laden years Avenge the cruel triumphs of the strong -- Trampled affections, and derided tears. Labour, degraded from her high behest, Cries "Ye shall know I am the living breath, And not the curse of Man. Ye shall have Rest -- The rest of Famine and the rest of Death." Oh, happy distant hours! that shall restore Honour to work, and pleasure to repose, Hasten your steps, just heard above the roar Of wildering passions and the crash of foes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMAGES: 6 by RICHARD ALDINGTON THE WOLD WALL by WILLIAM BARNES THE IMPROVISATORE: THE INDUCTION TO THE THIRD FYTTE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES PSALM 42. QUEMADMODUM by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE IDYLL 17. LOVE RESISTLESS by BION A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 38 by THOMAS CAMPION FOUR SONGS BY WAY OF CHORUS TO A PLAY: 2. FEMININE HONOURS by THOMAS CAREW |