Death Of Labour Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Death Of Labour
Rating: ★2.6
Methought a great wind swept across the earth,
And all the toilers perished. Then I saw
Pale terror blanch the rosy face of mirth,
And careless eyes grow full of fear and awe.
The sounds of pleasure ceased; the laughing song
On folly's lip changed to an angry cures:
A nameless horror seized the idle throng,
And death and ruin filled the universe.
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4/24/2024 5:57:10 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A wee bit dark on display but still well written.