Poem: “A World to Win”
Ye Lords of Wealth, who hold in thrall
The workers of all lands,
Shall with your ruthless system fall
When Power lies in our hands!
For paltry wage your wealth we pile,
Your useless class we keep:—
We’ll raze your robber-system vile,
And we who’ve sown shall reap!
Lords of the wealth that we have made—
Lords o’er our very life—
Think you our purpose shall be stayed ?
Ye germs of bloody strife!
Tho’ race slay race at your vile call
When lust of gold and power
And “Profit” is your all-in-all . . .
. . . . Yet will we make you cower!
The day will dawn when we, who make
The wealth of every land,
Combined in all our power, will take
Control from out your hand:
Wage-slaves not then in time of “peace,”
Nor pawns to win your wars!
Your tyrant’s might for e’er shall cease:
We’ll triumph in Our Cause!
Fulness of life (not slavery !)
With joy and peace for aye,
Shall bloom for us, as liberty
Turns man’s long night to day! !
J. G. M.