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No. 64. Sweet Liberty.
Oh, will there ever law be given
For those who are to labor driven?
Who feeds and clothes this mighty land?
'Tis done alone by Labor's hand.
CHORUS.
Oh, Liberty! sweet Liberty!
Stamped on the banner of the Free.
When Labor, partly recognized
In social standing, then shall rise,
And side by side with Wealth shall stand,
United in one glorious band.
Oh, Brother toiler, lend a hand;
Oh, come and join this noble band,
And closer by each other stand,
And we can save this glorious land.
Money has ruled this world so long,
Too late, I fear, we see the wrong.
We are bound so tight by Shylock's thong,
Our power to save is almost gone.
Oh, Brothers, why are they so long.
In righting this most grievous wrong,
When all the wealth of this great land
Must be produced by Labor's hand?
The cry comes up from every land.
Arise, my brothers, loose your band;
You're held as slaves — oh, can't you see?
Now loose your fetters and be free.
D. J. Stiter.