Death Of Labour
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Methought a great wind swept across the earth,
And all the toilers perished. Then I saw
Pale terror blanch the rosy face of mirth,
And careless eyes grow full of fear and awe.
The sounds of pleasure ceased; the laughing song
On folly's lip changed to an angry curse:
A nameless horror seized the idle throng,
And death and ruin filled the universe.
Source:Poems of Pleasure
Gay And Bird, 22 Bedford Street, Strand, London