BREAD AND KOSKS. As we came marching, marching, in the beauty of the day, A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill-lofts grey Are touched w'th nl! the radiance thai a summer sun discloses, For the people hear us singing: " Broad and Roses, Bread and Roses." As we come marching, marching, we battle, too, for men— For t lie y are women's children, and we mother ihem again. Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until lifo closes — Hearts starve as well as bodies. Give ua Bread, but give us Roses. Ab 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 know— Yes. it is Bread we light 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 on reposes— Bui a sharing of life's glories; Bread and Roses, Bread and Roses.
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Page 5 Advertisements Column 2, Evening Star, Issue 15690, 2 January 1915