Classic Poem

  D. W E will divide
The treasures of the land amongst us all:
Nature made all men equal.
  A. Soh! what 's here?
Divide what we have earned by our hard labour?
Let all men share alike? The idle take
The industrious labourer's mite? The drunkard swill
The drink that we have bought with sober toil?
The robber come into our doors, and cry
“Half of your loaf is mine”?—If we divide
Our neighbour's goods to-day, why not divide
Again to-morrow? Will our wealth become
Aught the more sacred, 'cause 'twas plundered first?
Why may not one to-morrow come, and claim
What we have stol'n to-day? How can we keep,
Save by our strength of arm, the gold we get,
A week,—a day,—an hour? How can we tell
The very food we earn shall be our own,
When we have ta'en another's?
  B. That is true.
  D. All will be right, in future.
  A. Who will work,
If what he earns be never safe? who'll sow,
That they who trade in plunder still may reap
The corn he ought to gather? One great end
Of all Laws is Security:—That lost,
A country doth become a robber's den,
Bloody and base, where nought but bad men thrive.