Now burst above the city's cold twilight
The piercing whistles and the tower-clocks: 
For day is done. Along the frozen docks
The workmen set their ragged shirts aright. 
Thro' factory doors a stream of dingy light
Follows the scrimmage as it quickly flocks
To hut and home among the snow's gray blocks. -- 
I love you, human labourers. Good-night! 
Good-night to all the blackened arms that ache! 
Good-night to every sick and sweated brow, 
To the poor girl that strength and love forsake, 
To the poor boy who can no more! I vow
The victim soon shall shudder at the stake
And fall in blood: we bring him even now.