[Gutenberg 33555] • On Strike Till 3

Excerpt from On Strike Till 3

Beneath a frosted birch, Lit up to brilliance by the burnished moon, The shingle cottage stood, a humble home. The labour of the day was done. The lamp Within sent out its yellow rays athwart The silver snow and on the well-washed sheets And other things that hung on lines and told The woman's calling. Work, from dawn of day Till dark, with poor reward.

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