Bread and Roses

As we go marching, marching, in the beauty of the day
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray
Are touched with all the radiance, a sudden sun discloses
For the people hear us singing, bread and roses, bread and roses.

As we go marching, marching, we battle too, for men,
For they are women’s children and our victory is their gain.
Our days shall not be sweated from birth until life closes,
Hearts starve as well as bodies, give us bread, but give us roses.

As we go marching, marching, un-numbered women dead
Go crying through our singing in their ancient call for bread,
Small art and love and beauty their trudging spirits knew
Oh, it is bread we fight for, but we fight for roses, too.

As we go marching, marching, the future hears our call.
For the rising of the women is the rising of us all.
No more the drudge, the idler, ten that toil where one reposes,
But a sharing of life’s glories, bread and roses, bread and roses.