Posted with permission of the transcriber, 'Ann'. Geo. SICKNESS & POVERTY IN Nineteenth Century Whitehaven. # 40. THE UNION WORKHOUSE. They've built a house on yonder slopes, Huge, grim, and prison-like and dull, With grated walls that shut out hope, And cells, of wretched paupers full. And they, if we for help should call, Will thither take and lodge us thus; But Ellen , no! - their prison wail, I swear it! Was not built for US. We've lived together fourteen years Three boys and four sweet girls are ours; Our life hath had its hopes and fears, Its autumn blights and summer flowers. But ever with determined front, And heart that scorned in ill to bow, Have we sustained misfortune's brunt; We never quailed - nor will we now! Our eldest hope - our Sally - she Who loves to steal from work to books, O God! In yon Bastile to see The sweetness of her modest looks! And Esty, who La** Little mind For books when there is work or play, Her little heart would burst, to find The same dull prison every day. His father's picture, too, my Bob, My double both in head and heart - And Bill, whom it were sin to rob Of his red cheek and emulous part- And Fanny, with her craftiness - And Jack, that screams so very low - Shall they assume the prison dress? - My dear, my dear, they shall not go! They shall not go - to pine apart, Forgetting kindredship and home, To lose each impulse of the heart That binds us wheresoe'er we roam. And we, whom God and love made one, Who man and law would disunite, We will not, famine's death to shun, Sleep there, or wake, a single night! Still is their law in something mild: Though I no more must share your rest, They would permit your infant child To tug at an exhausted breast! And Jack would cease at night to scream, Awed by some keeper's rod and threat; While, sunk in cribs, the rest would dream Of days too well remembered yet! Away! - On ENGLAND's soil we stand; Our means have erst supplied the poor: We have claims on our Fatherland! - No, no - the right is ours no more. But we will die a beggar's death Rather than pass their hated wall. - On some free hill breath out our breath, One nameless grave receiving all ! ______________________