 | Studies of Sensation and Event |  |
164
A COMING CRY.
The few to whom popes' kings have given the earth God gives to all,
Do tell us that for them alone its fruits increase and fall;
They tell us, that by labour, we may earn our daily bread;
But they take the labour for their engines that work on unfed;
And so we starve; and now the few have published a decree,—
Strave on, or eat in workhouses, the crumbs of charity;
Perhaps it's better than starvation,—once we'll pray, and then,
We'll all go building workhouses, million, million men!
Do tell us that for them alone its fruits increase and fall;
They tell us, that by labour, we may earn our daily bread;
But they take the labour for their engines that work on unfed;
And so we starve; and now the few have published a decree,—
Strave on, or eat in workhouses, the crumbs of charity;
Perhaps it's better than starvation,—once we'll pray, and then,
We'll all go building workhouses, million, million men!
165
We'll all go building workhouses,—million, million hands,
So jointed wondrously by God, to work love's wise commands;
We'll all go building workhouses,—million, million minds,
By great God chartered to condemn whatever harms or binds;
The God-given mind shall image, the God-given hand shall build
The prisons for God's children by the earth-lords willed;
Perhaps it's better than starvation, once we'll pray, and then,
We'll all go building workhouses,—million, million men.
So jointed wondrously by God, to work love's wise commands;
We'll all go building workhouses,—million, million minds,
By great God chartered to condemn whatever harms or binds;
The God-given mind shall image, the God-given hand shall build
The prisons for God's children by the earth-lords willed;
Perhaps it's better than starvation, once we'll pray, and then,
We'll all go building workhouses,—million, million men.
What'll we do with the workhouses? million, million men!
Shall we all lie down, and madden, each in his lonely den?
What! we whose sires made Cressy! we, men of Nelson's mould!
We, of the Russel's country,—God's Englishmen the bold!
Will we, at earth's lords' bidding, build ourselves dishonoured graves?
Will we who've made this England, endure to be its slaves?
Thrones totter before the answer!—once we'll pray, and then,
We'll all go building workhouses,—million, million men.
Shall we all lie down, and madden, each in his lonely den?
What! we whose sires made Cressy! we, men of Nelson's mould!
We, of the Russel's country,—God's Englishmen the bold!
166
Will we who've made this England, endure to be its slaves?
Thrones totter before the answer!—once we'll pray, and then,
We'll all go building workhouses,—million, million men.
| Studies of Sensation and Event | |