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weaving.
Afar, by sunnier streams than thine,
My sisters toil, with foreheads black;
And water with their blood this root,
Whereof we gather bounteous fruit.
My sisters toil, with foreheads black;
And water with their blood this root,
Whereof we gather bounteous fruit.
"There be sad women, sick and poor;
And those who walk in garments soiled:
Their shame, their sorrow, I endure;
By their defect my hope is foiled:
The blot they bear is on my name;
Who sins, and I am not to blame?
And those who walk in garments soiled:
Their shame, their sorrow, I endure;
By their defect my hope is foiled:
The blot they bear is on my name;
Who sins, and I am not to blame?
"And how much of your wrong is mine,
Dark women slaving at the South?
Of your stolen grapes I quaff the wine;
The bread you starve for fills my mouth:
The beam unwinds, but every thread
With blood of strangled souls is red.
Dark women slaving at the South?
Of your stolen grapes I quaff the wine;
The bread you starve for fills my mouth:
The beam unwinds, but every thread
With blood of strangled souls is red.
"If this be so, we win and wear
A Nessus-robe of poisoned cloth;
Or weave them shrouds they may not wear,
Fathers and brothers falling both
A Nessus-robe of poisoned cloth;
Or weave them shrouds they may not wear,
Fathers and brothers falling both
