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Workman's Dream

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<h2>THE WORKMAN'S DREAM</h2> <div class="blockb"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> To-day it's dirt and dust and steam, To-morrow it will be the same, And through it all the soul must dream And try to play a manly game; Dirt, dust and steam and harsh commands, Yet many a soft hand passes by And only thinks he understands The purpose of my task and why. </div> <div class="stanza"> I've seen men shudder just to see Me standing at this lathe of mine, And knew somehow they pitied me, But I have never made a whine; For out of all this dirt and dust And clang and clamor day by day, Beyond toil's everlasting "must," I see my little ones at play. </div> <div class="stanza"> The hissing steam would drive me mad If hissing steam was all I heard; But there's a boy who calls me dad Who daily keeps my courage spurred; And there's a little girl who waits Each night for all that I may bring, And I'm the guardian of their fates, Which makes this job a wholesome thing.[Pg 75] </div> <div class="stanza"> Beyond the dust and dirt and steam I see a college where he'll go; And when I shall fulfill my dream, More than his father he will know; And she shall be a woman fair, Fit for the world to love and trust— I'll give my land a glorious pair Out of this place of dirt and dust. </div> </div></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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