The Singer
If I had peace to sit and sing, Then I could make a lovely thing; But I am stung with goads and whips, So I build songs like iron ships.
Let it be something for my song, If it is sometimes swift and strong.
Anna Wickham
If I had peace to sit and sing, Then I could make a lovely thing; But I am stung with goads and whips, So I build songs like iron ships.
Let it be something for my song, If it is sometimes swift and strong.
The speaker longs for a peaceful life where she could sit and sing, creating something delicate and lovely. Instead, she feels stung by goads and whips — sharp pressures, pain, and constant demands — so her songs turn out heavy and tough, like iron ships.
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