No. 63. Hurrah for the Toiler.
EMMA G. CURTIS, Canon City, Col.
1. Our fathers sailed across the sea,
In search of freedom true;
Their wealth was in their brawny arms,
This comforts were but few;
Their hands were rough with honest toil,
Their faces dark with tan:
They held that each by some good work
Should help his fellow man.
For the toilers true and brave:
Three cheers for the land so strong,
That from want and hunger save.
2. But now has come a hurtful power
That like a cancer clings;
That nurses babes in filth and rags,
And woe and hunger brings.
The food for which the farmer delves,
Smokes hot on the groaning board
Of one who neither toils nor sweats,
Yet high he piles his hoard.
3. Oh, sad to think this widespread land,
Once freedom's palace proud,
Should echo with such discontent
As now arises loud.
Oh, haste the time when honest worth
Shall sit in places high;
When ring, and trust, and banks that "bust"
Shall hunt their dens and die.