Poem by Anonymous

To the Sons of Toil

Ye sons of men give ear awhile,
	And listen to my prayer;
To you I ask, ye sons of toil,
	Who are press’d with want and care,

How comes it that ye toil and sweat,                 	And bear the oppressor’s rod;
For cruel men who dare to change
	The equal laws of God?

How comes, that man with tyrant heart
	Is caused to rule another;
To rob, oppress, and, leech-like, suck
	The life’s blood of a brother?

Did Heaven’s Eternal Justice say,
	Ye sons of men give ear!
Your portion’s poverty and want,
	And others’ loads must bear.

No! Heaven decreed all men should share
	Alike his equal laws;
That all should live, and happy be,
	And plead each other’s cause.

Yes, brighter days await thee yet,
	Thy chart now meets our view;
To cheer our drooping, fainting hearts,
	And all our joys renew!

Arouse then, Britons! to your posts!
	Let cowards quit the field;
The known and right will claim the fight,
	And heaven will be our shield.

                                 A. W. 
                                 March 15, 1841

1. The Banks o’ Glaizart
2. The Aisle of Tombs
3. Sir Richard Whittington’s Advancement
4. The Cave of Pope
5. Blenheim

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