Ireland for the Irish Rhymes and Reasons Against Landlordism with a Preface on Fenianism and Republicanism. By W. J. Linton, Formerly of the Irish "Nation" |
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 | Ireland for the Irish |  |
THE SLAVE OF THE SOIL
The ass is fed, they muzzle not
The ox that treads the corn:
But they leave their human labourer
To starve and die forlorn.
The rich man's hound hath his kennel and
His meat both night and morn:
'Tis only the human labourer
Is left to die forlorn.
The ox that treads the corn:
But they leave their human labourer
To starve and die forlorn.
The rich man's hound hath his kennel and
His meat both night and morn:
'Tis only the human labourer
Is left to die forlorn.
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They tell us we are heirs of heaven,
Like them God's children born:
But the power that makes man's law hath laugh'd
God's holiest law to scorn.
We toil far worse than the lowest beasts;
And the beasts when lamed or worn
Are kill'd: it is only the human jade
Is left to die forlorn.
Like them God's children born:
But the power that makes man's law hath laugh'd
God's holiest law to scorn.
We toil far worse than the lowest beasts;
And the beasts when lamed or worn
Are kill'd: it is only the human jade
Is left to die forlorn.
Our youth is sad, our manhood's strength
Before its prime is shorn;
If we marry we do but curse the day
Or ever a child is born.
O God of the weak and sore-oppress'd,
Look down upon where we mourn,
And let not Thy human labourers
Be left to die forlorn!
Before its prime is shorn;
If we marry we do but curse the day
Or ever a child is born.
O God of the weak and sore-oppress'd,
Look down upon where we mourn,
And let not Thy human labourers
Be left to die forlorn!
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