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47
No. 60. Work, Work, Work, the Livelong Day.
In a hovel now I sit, thinking of the Days gone by,
When I owned my farm, my house and my home;
But the mortgage on my Land took it all for its demand,
And I sit and wonder where I now can roam.
CHORUS.
Work, work, work, the livelong day,
Toil on from morning until night:
And I try to cheer my wife in the midst of all the strife,
But I falter though I try with all my might.
In the front ranks we will stand, and will raise a warning hand
To the ones who robbed us of our heritage,
And they best heed our demands and return to us our lands,
Or we'll vote them down a hundred thousand more.
We are waiting for the day we can join in Freedom's fray,
And will help to fight the revolution o'er.
So we'll throw dull care away with our poor hearts almost gay,
When we think of having land and home once more.
C. S. White.