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It’s Only the Children Going to Work!

From The Detroit Times, June 18, 1914. By Hudson Maxim.

A whir of dust is sweeping the hill,
Between the gray dawn and the huge black mill.
There’s a drift of rags and of skinny bones,
With skeleton feet on the ruthless stones.
What specters are these in the witching light—
This ghostly rear-guard of the night,
Wearily treading the trail of the dark,
Arousing the morn before the lark?
What wights are they, so gaunt and lean,
With lagging pace and drowsy mien,
Who under the dim lamp’s flickering glow
Wind into the cavernous mill below?
A sortie of ghouls aloose from the tomb,
Or a rabble of wraiths begot of the gloom?
No—goblins and ghouls such task would shirk—
It is only the children going to work!

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