Song of the Sewing-Machine

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <p id="id00708" style="margin-top: 5em">Song of the Sewing-Machine</p> <p id="id00709" style="margin-top: 4em">I'm the Iron Needle-Woman!<br/> Wrought of sterner stuff than clay;<br/> And, unlike the drudges human,<br/> Never weary night or day;<br/> Never shedding tears of sorrow,<br/> Never mourning friends untrue,<br/> Never caring for the morrow,<br/> Never begging work to do.<br/></p> <p id="id00710">Poverty brings no disaster!<br/> Merrily I glide along,<br/> For no thankless, sordid master,<br/> Ever seeks to do me wrong:<br/> No extortioners oppress me,<br/> No insulting words I dread—<br/> I've no children to distress me<br/> With unceasing cries for bread.<br/></p> <p id="id00711">I'm of hardy form and feature,<br/> For endurance framed aright;<br/> I'm not pale misfortune's creature,<br/> Doomed life's battle here to fight:<br/> Mine's a song of cheerful measure,<br/> And no under-currents flow<br/> To destroy the throb of pleasure<br/> Which the poor so seldom know.<br/></p> <p id="id00712">In the hall I hold my station,<br/> With the wealthy ones of earth,<br/> Who commend me to the nation<br/> For economy and worth,<br/> While unpaid the female labor,<br/> In the attic-chamber lone,<br/> Where the smile of friend or neighbor<br/> Never for a moment shone.<br/></p> <p id="id00713">My creation is a blessing<br/> To the indigent secured,<br/> Banishing the cares distressing<br/> Which so many have endured:<br/> Mine are sinews superhuman,<br/> Ribs of oak and nerves of steel—<br/> I'm the Iron Needle-Woman<br/> Born to toil and not to feel.<br/></p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />