IN AN EAST END HOVEL.

Man of despair and death,

Bought and slaved in the gangs,

Starved and stripped and left

To the pitiful pitiless night,

Away with your selfish thoughts!

Touch not your ignorant life!

Are there no masters of slaves,

Jeering, cynical, strong —

Are there no brigands ( say ),

With the words of Christ on their lips

And the daggers under their cloaks —

Is there not one of these

That you can steal on and kill?

O as the Swiss mountaineer

Dogged on the perilous heights

His disciplined conqueror foes:

Caught up one in his arms

And, laughing exultantly,

Plunged with him to the abyss:

So let it be with you!

An eye for an eye, and a tooth

For a tooth, and a life for a life!

Tell it, this hateful strong

Contemptuous hypocrite world,

Tell it that, if we must live

As dogs and as worse than dogs,

At least we can die like men!

Tell it there is a woe

Not for the conquered alone!

An eye for an eye, and a tooth

For a tooth, and a life for a life!