He walked under the shadow of the Hill Where men are fed into the fires And walled apart... Unarmed and alone, He summoned his mates from the pit's mouth Where tools rested on the floors...
Rock-a-by baby, woolly and brown... (There's a shout at the door an' a big red light...) Lil' coon baby, mammy is down... Han's that hold yuh are steady an' white... ...
They pass through the great iron gates - Men with eyes gravely discerning, Skilled to appraise the tunnage of cranes Or split an inch into thousandths - Men tempered by fire as the ore is...
Is it you I see go by the window, Jim Larkin - you not looking at me nor any one, And your shadow swaying from East to West? Strange that you should be walking free - you shut down without light,...