LET him who toils, enjoy Fruit of his toiling. Let him whom sweats annoy, No more be spoiling. For we would have it be

YOU are at least a Man, of men a… You have a heart, and with that he… The race you come from is not gend… The filthy sty whose latest litter… Round England’s flesh-pots, gorge…

. . . I went the other day To see the birds and beasts they k… In the London Zoo. One of the fi… One of the first I noticed, was a… Ragged, befouled, within his iron…

He sits. Upon the kingly head dot… The round-balled wimple, and the h… Touch on the shoulders where the s… The downward garment shows the amb… The Face—that Face one scarce can…

COME then, let us at least know… Let us not blink our eyes and say We did not understand; old age or… Benumbed our sense or stole our si… It is a lie—just that, a lie—to de…

(Mindanao, Philippines) IN the dark waveless sea, Deep blue under deep blue, The fisher drifts by on the tide In his small pole-balanced canoe.

SHE went along the road, Her baby in her arms, The night and its alarms Made deadlier her load. Her shrunken breasts were dry;

A Memory LITTLE elfin maid, Old, though scarce two years, With your big dark hazel eyes Tenderer than tears,

An Address on her Jubilee Year MADAM, you have done well! Let… Speech addressed to a woman who ne… Daub you over with lies or deafen… I will praise you alone for your a…

I SAW them as they were born, Erect and fearless and free, Facing the sun and the wind Of the hills and the sea. I saw them naked, superb,

IN the early summer morning I stand and watch them come, The Children to the School-house; They chatter and laugh and hum. The little boys with satchels

WHEN day’s hard task’s done, Eve’s scant meal partaken, Out we steal each one, Weariless, unshaken. In small reeking squares,

‘WE sow the fertile seed and then… We thresh the golden grain; we kne… Others that eat are glad. In stor… While we hunger outside with heart… Hallelujah!

‘Susannah and Mary-Jane’ TWO little Darlings alone, Clinging hand in hand; Two little Girls come out To see the wonderful land!

UP from the oven pit, The hell where poor men toil, At the sunset hour he comes Clean-clothed, washed from soil. On the fo’c’s’le head he kneels,