C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Wathen Marks Wilks Call (18171890)
The Peoples Petition
O
O softly clothed! O richly fed!
O men of wealth and noble station!
Give us our daily bread.
For you our blood like rain is shed;
Then, lords and rulers of the soil,
Give us our daily bread.
Still weave we; still unclothed, unfed,
We make the raiment that ye wear:
Give us our daily bread.
We early leave, late seek, our bed,
Tempering the steel for your right hand:
Give us our daily bread.
There is no spot where we may tread;
No house to us sweet shelter yields:
Give us our daily bread.
We see our fair young daughters, dead:
Then hear us, O ye mighty ones!
Give us our daily bread.
Ye gaze on us, unclothed, unfed;
’Tis vain,—ye will not hear our cry,
Nor give us daily bread.
To him who is our Lord above;
We all are made of the same earth,
Are children of one love.
Judge of the living and the dead!
Lord of the lightnings and the thunders!
Give us our daily bread.