As we go marching, marching
In the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens,
A thousand mill lofts grey.
Are touched with all the radiance
That a sudden sun discloses.
For the people here are singing,
Bread and roses, bread and roses.
As we go marching, marching,
We battle too for men.
For they are in the struggle,
And together we shall win.
Our days shall not be sweated
From birth until life closes.
Hearts starve as well as bodies,
Give us bread, but give us roses.
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As we go marching, marching,
Unnumbered women dead,
Go crying through our singing
Their ancient call for bread.
Small art and love and beauty
Their trudging spirit knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for,
But we fight for roses too.
As we go marching, marching,
We're standing proud and tall.
The rising of the women
Means the rising of us all.
No more the drudge and idler,
Ten that toil where one reposes,
But a sharing of life's glories,
Bread and roses, bread and roses!
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