Classic Poem

Ho! tillers of the rugged soil!
Ho! toilers for your bread!
Why should you, LANDLESS, toil and starve
While landlord drones are fed?
Why should this fair and fruitful earth—
The right of every man—
Be wrenched from you, who toil to feed
A bloated robber clan?
Awake! ye men of ceaseless toil—
The land belongs to you;
'Tis God's free gift to each and all—
Then rise and claim your due!
God never made you for machines,
Nor merchandise, nor brutes,
To toil and starve, while bloated drones
Are feasting on your fruits.
Then up! ye plundered, landless slaves!
Arise, be freemen all,
And claim your birthright to the air,
The sun-light and the soil!
And then will bounty crown your toils,
The landless hosts be free,
And earth's glad millions join the songs
Of Freedom's Jubilee.