……………………Labor
We have fed you all for a thousand years,
…And you hail us still unfed,
Though there’s never a dollar of all your wealth
…But marks the workers’ dead.
We have yielded our best to give you rest,
…And you lie on crimson wool;
For if blood be the price of all your wealth
…Good God, we ha’ paid in full!
There’s never a mine blown skyward now
…But we’re buried alive for you;
There’s never a wreck drifts shoreward now
…But we are its ghastly crew:
Go reckon our dead by the forges red,
…And the factories where we spin.
If blood be the price of your cursed wealth
…Good God, we ha’ paid it in!
We have fed you all for a thousand years,
…For that was our doom, you know,
From the days when you chained us in your fields
…To the strike of a week ago.
You ha’ eaten our lives and our babes and wives,
…And we’re told it’s your legal share;
But if blood be the price of your lawful wealth,
…Good God, we ha’ bought it fair.
The Bard on the Hill 