- The Socialist
- May, 1903.
- Come workers sing a rebel song,
- A song of love and hate,
- Of love unto the lowly
- And of hatred to the great.
- The great who trod our fathers down,
- Who steal our children’s bread,
- Whose hands of greed are stretched to rob
- The living and the dead.
- chorus:
- Then sing our rebel song as we
- proudly sweep along
- To end the age-old tyranny
- that makes for human tears.
- Our march is nearer done, with
- each setting of the sun.
- And the tyrants’ might is passing
- with the passing of the years.
- We sing no more of wailing
- And no songs of sighs or tears;
- High are our hopes and stout our hearts
- And banished all our fears.
- Our flag is raised above us
- So that all the world may see,
- ’Tis Labour’s faith and Labour’s arm
- Alone can Labour free.
- chorus
- Out of the depths of misery
- We march with hearts aflame;
- With wrath against the rulers false
- Who wreck our manhood’s name.
- The serf who licks the tyrant’s rod
- May bend forgiving knee;
- The slave who breaks his slavery’s chain
- A wrathful man must be.
- chorus
- Our army marches onward
- With its face towards the dawn,
- In trust secure in that one thing
- The slave may lean upon.
- The might within the arm of him
- Who knowing freedom’s worth,
- Strikes hard to banish tyranny
- From off the face of earth.
- chorus