Chants for Socialists | Page 4

seed.
O strange new wonderful justice! But for whom shall we gather the
gain? For ourselves and for each of our fellows, and no hand shall
labour in vain.
Then all Mine and all Thine shall be Ours, and no more shall any man
crave
For riches that serve for nothing but to fetter a friend for a
slave.
And what wealth then shall be left us when none shall gather gold To
buy his friend in the market, and pinch and pine the sold?
Nay, what save the lovely city, and the little house on the hill, And the

wastes and the woodland beauty, and the happy fields we till;
And the homes of ancient stories, the tombs of the mighty dead; And
the wise men seeking out marvels, and the poet's teeming head;
And the painter's hand of wonder; and the marvellous fiddle-bow, And
the banded choirs of music: all those that do and know.
For all these shall be ours and all men's, nor shall any lack a share Of
the toil and the gain of living in the days when the world grows fair.
Ah! such are the days that shall be! But what are the deeds of to-day, In
the days of the years we dwell in, that wear our lives away?
Why, then, and for what are we waiting? There are three words to
speak: WE WILL IT, and what is the foeman but the dream-strong
wakened and weak?
O why and for what are we waiting? While our brothers droop and die,
And on every wind of the heavens a wasted life goes by.
How long shall they reproach us where crowd on crowd they dwell,
Poor ghosts of the wicked city, the gold-crushed hungry hell?
Through squalid life they laboured, in sordid grief they died, Those
sons of a mighty mother, those props of England's pride.
They are gone; there is none can undo it, nor save our souls from the
curse;
But many a million cometh, and shall they be better or worse?
It is we must answer and hasten, and open wide the door
For the rich
man's hurrying terror, and the slow-foot hope of the poor.
Yea, the voiceless wrath of the wretched, and their unlearned
discontent, We must give it voice and wisdom till the waiting-tide be
spent.
Come, then, since all things call us, the living and the dead, And o'er

the weltering tangle a glimmering light is shed.
Come, then, let us cast off fooling, and put by ease and rest, For the
CAUSE alone is worthy till the good days bring the best.
Come, join in the only battle wherein no man can fail,
Where whoso
fadeth and dieth, yet his deed shall still prevail.
Ah! come, cast off all fooling, for this, at least, we know: That the
Dawn and the Day is coming, and forth the Banners go.
THE VOICE OF TOIL
I heard men saying, Leave hope and praying,
All days shall be as all have been;
To-day and to-morrow bring fear
and sorrow,
The never-ending toil between.
When Earth was younger mid toil and hunger,
In hope we strove, and our hands were strong;
Then great men led us,
with words they fed us,
And bade us right the earthly wrong.
Go read in story their deeds and glory,
Their names amidst the nameless dead;
Turn then from lying to us
slow-dying
In that good world to which they led;
Where fast and faster our iron master,
The thing we made, for ever drives,
Bids us grind treasure and
fashion pleasure

For other hopes and other lives.
Where home is a hovel and dull we grovel,
Forgetting that the world is fair;
Where no babe we cherish, lest its
very soul perish;
Where our mirth is crime, our love a snare.
Who now shall lead us, what god shall heed us
As we lie in the hell our hands have won?
For us are no rulers but
fools and befoolers,
The great are fallen, the wise men gone.
I heard men saying, Leave tears and praying,
The sharp knife heedeth not the sheep;
Are we not stronger than the
rich and the wronger,
When day breaks over dreams and sleep?
Come, shoulder to shoulder ere the world grows older!
Help lies in nought but thee and me;
Hope is before us, the long years
that bore us
Bore leaders more than men may be.
Let dead hearts tarry and trade and marry,
And trembling nurse their dreams of mirth,
While we the living our
lives are giving
To bring the bright new world to birth.
Come, shoulder to shoulder ere earth grows older

The Cause spreads over land and sea;
Now the world shaketh, and
fear awaketh
And joy at last for thee and me.
NO MASTER
Saith man to man, We've heard and known
That we no master