“For oh,” say the children, “we are weary,
And we cannot run or leap;
If we dared for any meadows, it were merely
To drop down in them and sleep.
Our knees tremble soreley in the stooping,
We fall upon our faces, trying to go;
And, underneath our heavy eyelids drooping,
The reddest flower would look as pale as snow.
For, all day, we drag our burden tiring
Through the coal dark underground;
Or, all day, we drive the wheels of iron
In the factories round and round.”
- 1843

In the above poem, she writes about the exploitation of children employed in coal mines and factories.

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