In “Song of the Shirt,” by Thomas Hood, what effect does the repetition of the first and last stanzas lend to the meaning of the poem? On one hand, it could be exemplifying the popular viewpoint held by many of the English upper class that the plight of poor laborers was self-perpetuating. Just as the repeated description of the “weary and worn” seamstress affords the poem a cyclical feel, it was common in ninteenth-century England to regard the poverty of the working class as a cycle fueled by laziness and depraved morality−best to be ignored as any economic assistance would only encourage the corrupt mindset.

It is more likely, however, that Hood repeats this stanza to emphasize his frustration that those in power continuously stifled reform that would have brought about greatly needed economic relief for the working classes. Although “Song of the Shirt” is a poem, it exudes journalistic style as it seeks expose and raise awareness of the poverty raging throughout the country. Perhaps the image that resonates with this cause the most comes when the seamstress laments: “But why do I talk of Death? That phantom of grisly bone; I hardly fear his terrible shape, it seems so like my own.” How can the wealthy look upon such horrid conditions and feel no sense of responsibility to foster change? Hood’s repetition of the first and last stanza can be interpreted as a desperate plea for them to discover morality.

Times have progressed since William Blake published The Chimney Sweeper, but has morality not? In “Boy Crossing-Sweepers and Tumblers” by Henry Mayhew (London Labour and the London Poor), the pathetic predicament of the urban poor is exemplified through the profile of an “intelligent lad.” The text describes an isolated society formed by these child laborers, complete with “forms of trial…law…and a kind of language.” Although this lowly sphere of humanity regularly comes into contact with that of the upper class, those of good fortune view them with disdain, at best throwing them some change if their antics are deemed amusing.  Does the text suggest that the wealthy feel any sympathies for boys forced into begging because of misfortune outside of their control? Unlike Blake’s portrayal of the urban poor, which indicated that upper-class churchgoers tried to use the promise of eventual salvation to satisfy any moral discomfort, Mayhew’s account implies that any such unease has been abandoned in favor of simply ignoring the crossing-sweepers’ squalid conditions. This is solidified in Vanity Fair by Mr. Osborne’s reaction to the sudden misfortune of the Sedleys, to whom he should feel forever indebted. Instead of repaying debts and trying to help the family, or at the very least extending sympathies, he orders his family to cut off all communication with them. Are his actions unique in Victorian society? Unfortunately, the novel suggests they are not; his desire to distance himself from those who have slipped into a lower class accurately mirrors the blatant absence of morals swirling in the society around him. Perhaps even those who do have a sense of decency shove it aside in a desire to echo the values deemed acceptable by the majority.