No. 42. The Dawning Day.
Say, Workmen, have you heard the story,
Of the dawing of the day?
That shall light the path of those who labor,
And drive grim want away,
Oh, Workmen, as we band together,
'Gainst oppressor, high and low,
Let us widen out our magic circle
From Maine to Mexico.
The toilers laugh, ha, ha,
The idlers frown, ho, ho,
Must be a real Republic coming,
And the year of "Jubilo."
The toilers get so tired working
That the nabob may enjoy;
They like not that the purse-proud idlers
Scorn the poor men they employ.
They see the "trusts" lock up the sugar,
And "tie up" the binding twine;
That the land is held by foreign landlords,
So they say: "Friends, let's combine."
The "trusts" have given us too much, trouble,
They have driven us round a "spell;"
But ‘trusts’ and ‘syndicates,’ ‘grabs’ and ‘corners,’
We will drive to death, pell mell.
The party lash we spurn forever;
We have cast off the schemers' sway;
Our children shall march to life's long battle,
In the light of a better day.
Emma Ghent Curtis.