THE SPIRIT
OF
"THE NATION."
PART II.
THE VOICE OF LABOUR.
A CHANT OF THE MONSTER MEETINGS.
I.
Ye who despoil the sons of toil, saw ye this sight to-day
When stalwart trade in long brigade, beyond a king's array,
Marched in the blessed light of heaven, beneath the open sky,
Strong in the might of sacred right, that none dare ask them why?
These are the slaves, the needy knaves, ye spit upon with scorn—
The spawn of earth, of nameless birth, and basely bred as born,
Yet know, ye weak and silken Lords, were we the thing ye say,
Your broad domains, your coffered gains, your lives were ours to-day!
II.
Measure that rank, from flank to flank; 'tis fifty thousand strong;
And mark you here, in front and rear, brigades as deep and long;
And learn to know that blade of foe, or Arran's deadly breeze,
