Aux Ternes. {46} (Paris.)

SHE. - "Up and down, up and down,
            From early eve to early day.
        Life is quicker in the town;
            When you've leisure, anyway!

        "Down and up, down and up!
            O will no one stop and speak?
        I would really like to sup,
            And my limbs are heavy and weak.

        "What's my price, sir? I'm no Jew.
            If with me you wish to sleep,
        'Tis five francs, sir. Surely you
            Will admit that that is cheap?"

HE. - "Christ, if you are not stone blind,
        Stone deaf also, you know it is
    Christian towns leave far behind
        Sodom and those other cities.

    "Bid your Father strike this town,
        Wipe it utterly away!
    Weary, hungry, up and down
        From early eve to early day?

    "Magdalen knew nought like this;
        She had food and roof above;
    Seven devils, too, did she possess;
        This poor soul had but one - love!

    "O my sister, take me, kill me!
        I am one of those who once
    Only cared to feast and fill me
        On these robbed and murdered ones.

    "Kill me? Nay, but love me; listen.
        I have too a gospel word,
    Fit to make still, dull eyes glisten,
        And, like Christ's, it brings a sword!

    "No, Christ is not deaf nor blind;
        He's but dust in Syrian ground,
    And his Father has declined
        To a parson's phrase, a sound.

    "Not by such, then, but by us
        These hell-wrongs must be redressed.
    Take this morsel venomous;
        Nourish it within your breast.

    "You must live on, live and hate;
        Conquer wrath, despair and pain;
    For "we bid you hope" and wait
        Till the Red Flag flies again:

    "Till once more the people rise,
        Once more, once and only once,
    Blood-red hands and blazing eyes
        Of the robbed and murdered ones!

    "So good night, dear desperate heart.
        (Nay, 'tis sun-bright day we keep.)
    Soon we meet, though now we part.
        Kiss me . . . Take it . . . Go and sleep!"

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

Francis William Lauderdale Adams (27 September 1862 – 4 September 1893) was an English writer, poet, dramatist, and social reformer. His literary work often reflected his radical socialist views. Adams lived a life marred by poverty and struggles with his health, eventually committing suicide at the age of 30. Despite his brief life, his contributions to literature and social thought remain significant.

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

To My Friend Sydney Jephcott, With A Copy Of My "Poetical Works."

Francis William Lauderdale Adams, Simple Poetry

Defeat?

Francis William Lauderdale Adams, Simple Poetry

In The Edgware Road. (To Lord L - - .)

Francis William Lauderdale Adams, Simple Poetry

In The Street. Lord - - .

Francis William Lauderdale Adams, Simple Poetry

English

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. . . In a dark street she met and spoke to me,
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Epode. "On The Ranges, Queensland."
Beyond the night, down o'er the labouring East,
I see light's harbinger of dawn released:
Upon the false gleam of the ante-dawn,
Lo, the fair heaven of day-pursuing morn!

Beyond the lampless sleep and perishing death
That hold my heart, I feel my new life's breath,
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To England.
I.

There was a time when all thy sons were proud
To speak thy name,
England, when Europe echoed back aloud
Thy fearless fame:

When Spain reeled shattered helpless from thy guns
And splendid ire,
When from Canadian snows to Indian suns
Pitt's soul was fire.

O that in days like these were, fair and free
From shame and scorn,
Fate had allowed, benignly, pityingly
That I was born!

O that, if struck, then struck with glorious wounds,
I bore apart
(Not torn with fangs of leprous coward hounds)
My bleeding heart!

II.

We hate you - not because of cruel deeds
Staining a glorious effort. They who live
Learn in this earth to give and to forgive,
Where he...
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Song-Flower And Poppy
I

IN NEW YORK

He plays the deuce with my writing time,
For the penny my sixth-floor neighbor throws;
He finds me proud of my pondered rhyme,
And he leaves me--well, God knows
It takes the shine from a tunester's line
When a little mate of the deathless Nine
Pipes up under your nose!

For listen, there is his voice again,
Wistful and clear and piercing sweet.
Where did the boy find such a strain
To make a dead heart beat?
And how in the name of care can he bear
To jet such a fountain into the air
In this gray gulch of a street?

Tuscan slopes or the Piedmontese?
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In An East End Hovel. To A Workman, A Would-Be Suicide.
Man of despair and death,
Bought and slaved in the gangs,
Starved and stripped and left
To the pitiful pitiless night,
Away with your selfish thoughts!
Touch not your ignorant life!
Are there no masters of slaves,
Jeering, cynical, strong -
Are there no brigands (say),
With the words of Christ on their lips
And the daggers under their cloaks -
Is there not one of these
That you can steal on and kill?
O as the Swiss mountaineer
Dogged on the perilous heights
His disciplined conqueror foes: {39a}
Caught up one in his arms
And, laughing exultantly,
Plunged with him to the abyss:
So let it be with you!
An eye for an eye, and a tooth
For a tooth, and a life for a life!
Tell it, this hateful strong
Contemptuous hypocrite world,
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A Morn Of Guilt, An Hour Of Doom. (Hymn)
"There was darkness."

A Morn of guilt, an hour of doom -
Shocks and tremblings dread;
All the city sunk in gloom -
Thick darkness overhead.
An awful Sufferer straight and stark;
Mocking voices fell;
Tremblings - tremblings in the dark,
In heaven, and earth, and hell.

Groping, stumbling up the way,
They pass, whom Christ forgave;
They know not what they do - they say,
"Himself He cannot save.
On His head behold the crown
That alien hands did weave;
Let Him come down, let Him come down,
And we will believe!"

Fearsome dreams, a rending veil,
Cloven rocks down hurl'd;
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The Saviour of the world.
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Eithe...
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