ORIGINAL POETRY

Wairoa Bell, Volume V, Issue 209, 4 August 1893, Page 3

ORIGINAL POETRY

OUR WORKERS. In “ the good old times ” of story, And of song-, the sons of toil Wore the slaves of king- or baron, Owned by those who owned the soil. But the bondsman burst his fetters When the light of freedom shone ; And the rays of hope grow brighter A.s the passing years roll on. On the -plains, or where the forests Clothe the noble range o’orlioad, Wielding axes, or spade, or hammer, Bravo men cam their daily bread. With earth’s varied charms around them, With the azure dome above, Cheerfully they plan and labour Eor the wives aud bairns they love. And the toilers of the city, Though the lark’s rich lay denied, Love the. richer songs that brighten Heart and home at eventide. And the hands by labour hardened, That will ne’er a duty shun, Smooth the maiden’s silken tresses When the daily tasks nve, done. I would rather be a worker, With a love for all things fair, Than the titled, reckless spendthrift, Or the heartless millionaire. They are noble who are keeping .Free from shame, aud free from debt .Better men than those disgracing Some time-honoured coronet, At the forge, or in the office, In the mine or in the glen, Those who toil with brains or muscle Are indeed true noblemen. And our bonnie, tuneful lasses, Lightening toil with -song and mirth, Are the fairies who are bringing Heaven’s sunshine to the hearth, Not to those proud useless idlers Who but stand and block the way, But to all true, earnest toilers, Does the heart its homage pay. ’To the men for loved ones toiling, To the women aged with care, To our wives, and sons, aud daughters— To God’s workers everywhere, -~-E. 8, Husband, To Kopuru, July 1893,