As we come marching, marching
in the beauty of the day,
a million darkened kitchens,
a thousand mill lofts gray, are touched with all the radiance
that a sudden sun discloses,
for the people hear us singing:
Bread and Roses! Bread and Roses!
As we come marching, marching
we battle too for men,
for they are women's children,
and we mother them again.
Our lives shall not be sweated
from birth until life closes;
hearts starve as well as bodies;
give us bread, but give us roses!
As we come marching, marching
unnumbered women dead
go crying through our singing
their ancient cry for bread.
Small art and love and beauty
their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for�
but we fight for roses, too!
As we come marching, marching,
we bring the greater days.
The rising of the women
means the rising of the race.
No more drudge and idler�
ten that toil where one reposes,
but a sharing of life's glories:
Bread and Roses! Bread and Roses!
Complete text of the classic labor hymn that was inspired by the Lawrence, Mass. woolen workers' strike of 1912. Bread and Roses Bookshop.
