*THE
WORKER*
Brisbane,
March 9, 1895.
Organise.
When
Labour grovelled in the dust
Beneath
the juggernaut of gold;
When
greed, Monoply, and Trust
Held
slaves in bondage, as of old;
I
heard a voice that woke the dead,
A
clarion note that rent the skies,
One
single note was all it said,
That
magic word was ORGANISE.
With
sudden force its echoes boomed
From
vale to vale, from hill to hill,
America's
“Tyranny is doomed;”
And
'tis reverberating still,
The
fetttered slaves took up the note,
When
they rehearsed what freeman prize
And
as the chorus grandly floats
Its
swelling strain is ORGANISE.
From
land to land, from sea to sea,
The
gospel of our freedom spread,
Until,
resolving to be free,
The
weary workman raised his head,
And,
with the dignity of right,
He
looked the tyrant in the eyes,
And
said, “Your only law is might,
And
ours the right to ORGANISE.”
They
organised in fits and starts,
Unmindful
of this one great law,
That
Unity is what imparts
Strength
to the chain that has no flaw,
But
to prepare a chain that can
Hold
just the ship when storms arise,
We
must get every working man
In
this broad land to ORGANISE.
We
must resolve, and re-solve,
And
talk and talk “till crack of doom,”
The
only thing that will evolve
From
out the darkness and the gloom
Of
poverty, to comfort, light,
And
all this fact must realise,
Is,
Labour's forces to unite!
And,
to unite them, ORGANISE.
The
sharks that corner meat and flour,
And
other vitals of this land;
Where
do they get the strength, the power,
To
crush the poor at their command;
How
can so many rich agree
In
their control of earth's supplies?
'Tis
simple, and a child can see;
They
act as one, they ORGANISE!
Then
meet them, workman, in your might,
With
that good weapon they have made,
It
will not fail you in the fight,
It
is the true Damascus blade,
But
work! Before you get that sword
You
must enrol. And that implies,
You'll
be a soldier with the word
And
countersign of ORGANISE.
Yes,
organise, ye millions, who
Produce
the wealth of this great land,
That
keeps in luxury the few
Proud
souls that usury command,
Peace,
plenty, and prosperity
Will
come unbidden from the ties
Of
brotherhood and unity,
Then
ORGANISE, oh, ORGANISE.
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