The Cry of the Children
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Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Leave a comment on line 1 0
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Ere the sorrow comes with years? Leave a comment on line 2 0
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They are leaning their young heads against their mothers, — Leave a comment on line 3 0
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And that cannot stop their tears. Leave a comment on line 4 0
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The young lambs are bleating in the meadows; Leave a comment on line 5 0
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The young birds are chirping in the nest; Leave a comment on line 6 0
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The young fawns are playing with the shadows; Leave a comment on line 7 0
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The young flowers are blowing toward the west — Leave a comment on line 8 2
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But the young, young children, O my brothers, Leave a comment on line 9 0
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They are weeping bitterly! Leave a comment on line 10 0
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They are weeping in the playtime of the others, Leave a comment on line 11 0
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In the country of the free. Leave a comment on line 12 0
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Do you question the young children in the sorrow, Leave a comment on line 13 0
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Why their tears are falling so? Leave a comment on line 14 0
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The old man may weep for his to-morrow Leave a comment on line 15 0
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Which is lost in Long Ago — Leave a comment on line 16 0
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The old tree is leafless in the forest — Leave a comment on line 17 0
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The old year is ending in the frost — Leave a comment on line 18 0
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The old wound, if stricken, is the sorest — Leave a comment on line 19 0
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The old hope is hardest to be lost: Leave a comment on line 20 0
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But the young, young children, O my brothers, Leave a comment on line 21 0
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Do you ask them why they stand Leave a comment on line 22 0
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Weeping sore before the bosoms of their mothers, Leave a comment on line 23 0
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In our happy Fatherland? Leave a comment on line 24 0
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They look up with their pale and sunken faces, Leave a comment on line 25 0
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And their looks are sad to see, Leave a comment on line 26 0
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For the man’s grief abhorrent, draws and presses Leave a comment on line 27 0
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Down the cheeks of infancy — Leave a comment on line 28 0
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“Your old earth,” they say, “is very dreary;” Leave a comment on line 29 0
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“Our young feet,” they say, “are very weak!” Leave a comment on line 30 0
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Few paces have we taken, yet are weary– Leave a comment on line 31 0
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Our grave-rest is very far to seek! Leave a comment on line 32 0
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Ask the old why they weep, and not the children, Leave a comment on line 33 0
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For the outside earth is cold — Leave a comment on line 34 0
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And we young ones stand without, in our bewildering, Leave a comment on line 35 0
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And the graves are for the old!” Leave a comment on line 36 0
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“True,” say the children, “it may happen Leave a comment on line 37 0
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That we die before our time! Leave a comment on line 38 0
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Little Alice died last year her grave is shapen Leave a comment on line 39 0
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Like a snowball, in the rime. Leave a comment on line 40 0
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We looked into the pit prepared to take her — Leave a comment on line 41 0
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Was no room for any work in the close clay: Leave a comment on line 42 0
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From the sleep wherein she lieth none will wake her, Leave a comment on line 43 0
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Crying, ‘Get up, little Alice! it is day.’ Leave a comment on line 44 0
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If you listen by that grave, in sun and shower, Leave a comment on line 45 0
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With your ear down, little Alice never cries; Leave a comment on line 46 0
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Could we see her face, be sure we should not know her, Leave a comment on line 47 0
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For the smile has time for growing in her eyes,– Leave a comment on line 48 0
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And merry go her moments, lulled and stilled in Leave a comment on line 49 0
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The shroud, by the kirk-chime! Leave a comment on line 50 0
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It is good when it happens,” say the children, Leave a comment on line 51 0
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“That we die before our time!” Leave a comment on line 52 0
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Alas, the wretched children! they are seeking Leave a comment on line 53 0
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Death in life, as best to have! Leave a comment on line 54 0
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They are binding up their hearts away from breaking, Leave a comment on line 55 0
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With a cerement from the grave. Leave a comment on line 56 0
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Go out, children, from the mine and from the city — Leave a comment on line 57 0
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Sing out, children, as the little thrushes do — Leave a comment on line 58 0
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Pluck you handfuls of the meadow-cowslips pretty Leave a comment on line 59 0
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Laugh aloud, to feel your fingers let them through! Leave a comment on line 60 0
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But they answer, ” Are your cowslips of the meadows Leave a comment on line 61 0
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Like our weeds anear the mine? Leave a comment on line 62 0
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Leave us quiet in the dark of the coal-shadows, Leave a comment on line 63 0
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From your pleasures fair and fine! Leave a comment on line 64 0
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“For oh,” say the children, “we are weary, Leave a comment on line 65 0
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And we cannot run or leap — Leave a comment on line 66 0
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If we cared for any meadows, it were merely Leave a comment on line 67 0
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To drop down in them and sleep. Leave a comment on line 68 0
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Our knees tremble sorely in the stooping — Leave a comment on line 69 0
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We fall upon our faces, trying to go; Leave a comment on line 70 0
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And, underneath our heavy eyelids drooping, Leave a comment on line 71 0
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The reddest flower would look as pale as snow. Leave a comment on line 72 0
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For, all day, we drag our burden tiring, Leave a comment on line 73 0
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Through the coal-dark, underground — Leave a comment on line 74 0
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Or, all day, we drive the wheels of iron Leave a comment on line 75 0
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In the factories, round and round. Leave a comment on line 76 0
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“For all day, the wheels are droning, turning, — Leave a comment on line 77 0
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Their wind comes in our faces, — Leave a comment on line 78 0
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Till our hearts turn, — our heads, with pulses burning, Leave a comment on line 79 0
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And the walls turn in their places Leave a comment on line 80 0
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Turns the sky in the high window blank and reeling — Leave a comment on line 81 0
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Turns the long light that droppeth down the wall, — Leave a comment on line 82 0
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Turn the black flies that crawl along the ceiling — Leave a comment on line 83 0
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All are turning, all the day, and we with all! — Leave a comment on line 84 0
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And all day, the iron wheels are droning; Leave a comment on line 85 0
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And sometimes we could pray, Leave a comment on line 86 0
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‘O ye wheels,’ (breaking out in a mad moaning) Leave a comment on line 87 0
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‘Stop! be silent for to-day!'” Leave a comment on line 88 0
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Ay! be silent! Let them hear each other breathing Leave a comment on line 89 0
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For a moment, mouth to mouth — Leave a comment on line 90 0
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Let them touch each other’s hands, in a fresh wreathing Leave a comment on line 91 2
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Of their tender human youth! Leave a comment on line 92 0
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Let them feel that this cold metallic motion Leave a comment on line 93 0
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Is not all the life God fashions or reveals — Leave a comment on line 94 0
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Let them prove their inward souls against the notion Leave a comment on line 95 0
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That they live in you, or under you, O wheels! — Leave a comment on line 96 0
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Still, all day, the iron wheels go onward, Leave a comment on line 97 0
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As if Fate in each were stark; Leave a comment on line 98 0
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And the children’s souls, which God is calling sunward, Leave a comment on line 99 0
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Spin on blindly in the dark. Leave a comment on line 100 0
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Now tell the poor young children, O my brothers, Leave a comment on line 101 0
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To look up to Him and pray — Leave a comment on line 102 0
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So the blessed One, who blesseth all the others, Leave a comment on line 103 0
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Will bless them another day. Leave a comment on line 104 0
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They answer, “Who is God that He should hear us, Leave a comment on line 105 0
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While the rushing of the iron wheels is stirred? Leave a comment on line 106 0
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When we sob aloud, the human creatures near us Leave a comment on line 107 0
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Pass by, hearing not, or answer not a word! Leave a comment on line 108 0
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And we hear not (for the wheels in their resounding) Leave a comment on line 109 0
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Strangers speaking at the door: Leave a comment on line 110 0
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Is it likely God, with angels singing round Him, Leave a comment on line 111 0
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Hears our weeping any more? Leave a comment on line 112 0
¶ 113
“Two words, indeed, of praying we remember; Leave a comment on line 113 0
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And at midnight’s hour of harm, — Leave a comment on line 114 0
¶ 115
‘Our Father,’ looking upward in the chamber, Leave a comment on line 115 0
¶ 116
We say softly for a charm. Leave a comment on line 116 1
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We know no other words, except ‘Our Father,’ Leave a comment on line 117 0
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And we think that, in some pause of angels’ song, Leave a comment on line 118 0
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God may pluck them with the silence sweet to gather, Leave a comment on line 119 0
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And hold both within His right hand which is strong. Leave a comment on line 120 0
¶ 121
‘Our Father!’ If He heard us, He would surely Leave a comment on line 121 0
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(For they call Him good and mild) Leave a comment on line 122 0
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Answer, smiling down the steep world very purely, Leave a comment on line 123 0
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‘Come and rest with me, my child.’ Leave a comment on line 124 0
¶ 125
“But, no!” say the children, weeping faster, Leave a comment on line 125 0
¶ 126
“He is speechless as a stone; Leave a comment on line 126 0
¶ 127
And they tell us, of His image is the master Leave a comment on line 127 0
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Who commands us to work on. Leave a comment on line 128 0
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Go to!” say the children,–“up in Heaven, Leave a comment on line 129 0
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Dark, wheel-like, turning clouds are all we find! Leave a comment on line 130 0
¶ 131
Do not mock us; grief has made us unbelieving — Leave a comment on line 131 0
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We look up for God, but tears have made us blind.” Leave a comment on line 132 0
¶ 133
Do ye hear the children weeping and disproving, Leave a comment on line 133 0
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O my brothers, what ye preach? Leave a comment on line 134 0
¶ 135
For God’s possible is taught by His world’s loving — Leave a comment on line 135 0
¶ 136
And the children doubt of each. Leave a comment on line 136 0
¶ 137
And well may the children weep before you; Leave a comment on line 137 0
¶ 138
They are weary ere they run; Leave a comment on line 138 0
¶ 139
They have never seen the sunshine, nor the glory Leave a comment on line 139 0
¶ 140
Which is brighter than the sun: Leave a comment on line 140 0
¶ 141
They know the grief of man, without its wisdom; Leave a comment on line 141 0
¶ 142
They sink in the despair, without its calm — Leave a comment on line 142 0
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Are slaves, without the liberty in Christdom, — Leave a comment on line 143 0
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Are martyrs, by the pang without the palm, — Leave a comment on line 144 0
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Are worn, as if with age, yet unretrievingly Leave a comment on line 145 0
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No dear remembrance keep,– Leave a comment on line 146 0
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Are orphans of the earthly love and heavenly: Leave a comment on line 147 0
¶ 148
Let them weep! let them weep! Leave a comment on line 148 0
¶ 149
They look up, with their pale and sunken faces, Leave a comment on line 149 0
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And their look is dread to see, Leave a comment on line 150 0
¶ 151
For they think you see their angels in their places, Leave a comment on line 151 0
¶ 152
With eyes meant for Deity;– Leave a comment on line 152 0
¶ 153
“How long,” they say, “how long, O cruel nation, Leave a comment on line 153 0
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Will you stand, to move the world, on a child’s heart, — Leave a comment on line 154 0
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Stifle down with a mailed heel its palpitation, Leave a comment on line 155 0
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And tread onward to your throne amid the mart? Leave a comment on line 156 0
¶ 157
Our blood splashes upward, O our tyrants, Leave a comment on line 157 0
¶ 158
And your purple shews your path; Leave a comment on line 158 0
¶ 159
But the child’s sob curseth deeper in the silence Leave a comment on line 159 0
¶ 160
Than the strong man in his wrath!” Leave a comment on line 160 0
The text of the poem printed here is taken from Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Poems (London: Edward Moxon, 1844), as reproduced at Representative Poetry Online.
The poem is preceded by this epigraph from Browning:
Translation: Alas, alas, why do you gaze at me with your eyes, my children.
The poem first appeared in 1843 in Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine. You can read it as printed there, attributed to “Elizabeth B. Barret,” on the website of the British Library.
As explained on the website Rhyme and Reform: Victorian Working-Class Poets and Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s “The Cry of the Children”, EBB’s choice to publish the poem in Blackwood’s, a conservative magazine, is an interesting one.
Of interest, too, was her placement of “The Cry of the Children” in the second edition of her collected poems, where it falls between “The Runaway Slave at Pilgrim’s Point” and “A Child Asleep.”