Chants for Socialists | Page 6

Now at last they've heard and hear it, and the cry comes down the wind,
And their feet are marching on.
O ye rich men hear and tremble! for with words the sound is rife:
"Once for you and death we laboured; changed henceforward is the
strife. We are men, and we shall battle for the world of men and life;
And our host is marching on."
Hark the rolling of the thunder!
Lo the sun! and lo thereunder

Riseth wrath, and hope, and wonder,
And the host comes marching on.
"Is it war, then? Will ye perish as the dry wood in the fire? Is it peace?
Then be ye of us, let your hope be our desire. Come and live! for life
awaketh, and the world shall never tire;
And hope is marching on.
"On we march then, we the workers, and the rumour that ye hear Is the
blended sound of battle and deliv'rance drawing near; For the hope of
every creature is the banner that we bear,
And the world is marching on."

Hark the rolling of the thunder!
Lo the sun! and lo thereunder

Riseth wrath, and hope, and wonder,
And the host comes marching on.
DOWN AMONG THE DEAD MEN
Come, comrades, come, your glasses clink;
Up with your hands a
health to drink,
The health of all that workers be,
In every land, on
every sea.
And he that will this health deny,
Down among the dead men, down
among the dead men,
Down, down, down, down,
Down among the
dead men let him lie!
Well done! now drink another toast,
And pledge the gath'ring of the
host,
The people armed in brain and hand,
To claim their rights in
every land.
And he that will this health deny,
Down among the dead men, down
among the dead men,
Down, down, down, down,
Down among the
dead men let him lie!
There's liquor left; come, let's be kind,
And drink the rich a better
mind,
That when we knock upon the door,
They may be off and say
no more.
And he that will this health deny,
Down among the dead men, down
among the dead men,
Down, down, down, down,
Down among the
dead men let him lie!
Now, comrades, let the glass blush red,
Drink we the unforgotten
dead
That did their deeds and went away,
Before the bright sun
brought the day.
And he that will this health deny,
Down among the dead men, down

among the dead men,
Down, down, down, down,
Down among the
dead men let him lie!
The Day? Ah, friends, late grows the night;
Drink to the glimmering
spark of light,
The herald of the joy to be,
The battle-torch of thee
and me!
And he that will this health deny,
Down among the dead men, down
among the dead men,
Down, down, down, down,
Down among the
dead men let him lie!
Take yet another cup in hand
And drink in hope our little band;

Drink strife in hope while lasteth breath,
And brotherhood in life and
death;
And he that will this health deny,
Down among the dead men, down
among the dead men,
Down, down, down, down,
Down among the
dead men let him lie!
A DEATH SONG
What cometh here from west to east awending?
And who are these,
the marchers stern and slow?
We bear the message that the rich are
sending
Aback to those who bade them wake and know.
Not one,
not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would
dusk the day.
We asked them for a life of toilsome earning,
They bade us bide their
leisure for our bread;
We craved to speak to tell our woeful learning:

We come back speechless, bearing back our dead.
Not one, not one,
nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the
day.
They will not learn; they have no ears to hearken.
They turn their
faces from the eyes of fate;
Their gay-lit halls shut out the skies that
darken.
But, lo! this dead man knocking at the gate.
Not one, not

one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk
the day.
Here lies the sign that we shall break our prison;
Amidst the storm he
won a prisoner's rest;
But in the cloudy dawn the sun arisen
Brings
us our day of work to win the best.
Not one, not one, nor thousands
must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.
MAY DAY [1892]
THE WORKERS.
O Earth, once again cometh Spring to deliver
Thy winter-worn heart, O thou friend of the Sun;
Fair blossom the
meadows from river to river
And the birds sing their triumph o'er winter undone.
O Earth, how a-toiling thou singest thy labour
And upholdest the flower-crowned cup of thy bliss,
As when in the
feast-tide drinks neighbour to neighbour
And all words are gleeful, and nought is amiss.
But we, we, O Mother, through long generations,
We have toiled and been fruitful, but never with thee
Might we raise
up our bowed heads and cry to