Page:Poems for Workers - ed. Manuel Gomez (1925).djvu/51



Again the grinding of the iron gods,

The old familiar fury of the wheels;

Again the accustomed clamor of the rods,

The giddy belting, and the room that reels;

The dim light dancing, and the shadows shaking,

The little sudden pains, the mute despairs,

The patient and the weary hands; till, waking,

At dusk, we tumble down the crazy stairs.