Bread and Roses By James Oppenheim

Bread and Roses By James Oppenheim

 

As we come marching, marching, in the beauty of the day,

A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill-lofts gray

Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,

For the people hear us singing, "Bread and Roses, Bread and Roses."

 

As we come marching, marching, we battle, too, for men --

For they are women's children, and we mother them again.

Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes --

Hearts starve as well as bodies: Give us Bread, but give us Roses.

 

As we come marching, marching, unnumbered women dead

Go crying through our singing their ancient song of Bread;

Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew --

Yes, it is bread we fight for -- but we fight for Roses, too.

 

As we come marching, marching, we bring the Greater Days --

The rising of the women means the rising of the race --

No more the drudge and idler -- ten that toil where one reposes --

But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and Roses, Bread and Roses.