On the black wheels within,
Drew in their days and wove their days
To a web exceeding thin.
And they suffered what women have suffered over and over again.
And it’s “Double your speed for a living wage, ye mothers and wives of men!”
They looked from brothel windows,
And caught the curtain down.
A piteous, beckoning hand thrust out,
To summon or clod, or clown.
They named them true, they named them true,