Page:The cry for justice - an anthology of the literature of social protest. - (IA cryforjusticea00sinc).pdf/335

 Those twin-born shades that lie in wait for man When he steps out upon the wind-blown road That leads to human greatness and to pain. Take in your hand once more the pilgrim's staff— Your delicate hand misshapen from the nights In Kara's mines; bind on your unbent back That long has borne the burdens of the race, The exile's bundle, and upon your feet Strap the worn sandals of a tireless faith.

You are too great for pity. After you We send not sobs, but songs; and all our days We shall walk bravelier knowing where you are.

In Siberia

(Reported by Ernest Poole)

As punishment for my attempt at escape I was sentenced to four years' hard labor in Kara and to forty blows of the lash. Into my cell a physician came to see if I were strong enough to live through the agony. I saw at once that, afraid to flog a woman "political" without precedent, by this trick of declaring me too sick to be punished they wished to establish the precedent of the sentence in order that others might be flogged in the future. I insisted that I was strong enough, and that the court had no right to record such a sentence unless they flogged me at once. The sentence was not carried out.

A few weeks later eight of the men politicals escaped in pairs, leaving dummies in their places. As the guards