The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | ||
THE MONEY-KING'S CHORUS.
Bring out a vise of iron strong,
With a screw of fraud and a lever of wrong
For the people suffering much and long,
As slaves to every faction;
We'll squeeze the fools in spite of their shrieks
Till the tears roll down their pallid cheeks,
And their agony every fibre speaks,
And we'll call the thing—“Contraction.”
With a screw of fraud and a lever of wrong
For the people suffering much and long,
As slaves to every faction;
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Till the tears roll down their pallid cheeks,
And their agony every fibre speaks,
And we'll call the thing—“Contraction.”
Put down the lever! turn the screw!
Do they owe us a dollar? Put them through
A scheme to make that dollar two,
Nor let their struggles save 'em;
Rag money is a thing accurst—
We made the bubble—we'll make it burst;
But we'll get 'em in hot water first,
And then, by Jove! we'll shave 'em.
Do they owe us a dollar? Put them through
A scheme to make that dollar two,
Nor let their struggles save 'em;
Rag money is a thing accurst—
We made the bubble—we'll make it burst;
But we'll get 'em in hot water first,
And then, by Jove! we'll shave 'em.
What matter if the grimy slaves
For the profit of money-getting knaves
Are daily hurried to wretched graves
By woe and need and famine—
What matter if wages shrink each day
While flour and beef at the old price stay,
So long as the rich their pockets may
Additional plunder cram in?
For the profit of money-getting knaves
Are daily hurried to wretched graves
By woe and need and famine—
What matter if wages shrink each day
While flour and beef at the old price stay,
So long as the rich their pockets may
Additional plunder cram in?
To live on what they do not earn
Is the wisdom bankers and brokers learn;
So give the screw another turn,
And squeeze the people thorough;
If the famished toiler lack for bread,
We'll give him a stone or two instead;
If he have no roof to cover his head,
Confound him! let him borrow.
Is the wisdom bankers and brokers learn;
So give the screw another turn,
And squeeze the people thorough;
If the famished toiler lack for bread,
We'll give him a stone or two instead;
If he have no roof to cover his head,
Confound him! let him borrow.
His loud complaint is paltry fuss—
What are his woes and pains to us,
So long as feeling covetous
All love and pity smothers?
To kindliness we bid farewell,
Although our golden beads we tell,
And pray—“Our Father who art in Hell,
Give us the bread of others.”
What are his woes and pains to us,
So long as feeling covetous
All love and pity smothers?
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Although our golden beads we tell,
And pray—“Our Father who art in Hell,
Give us the bread of others.”
Screw long! Screw hard! and in the days
The people, wakened from amaze,
Our palaces to earth shall raze,
And hunt us down like vermin;
The wealth that from the mass we stole
Abroad shall pleasant life control,
At Botany Bay, or Symmes's Hole,
As Satan shall determine.
The people, wakened from amaze,
Our palaces to earth shall raze,
And hunt us down like vermin;
The wealth that from the mass we stole
Abroad shall pleasant life control,
At Botany Bay, or Symmes's Hole,
As Satan shall determine.
The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | ||