Bugle Calls: Awake, Educate, Agitate, Act!

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Brentano's, 1901 - 184 էջ
 

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Էջ 160 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth, accumulates, and men decay: Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade ; A breath can make them, as a breath has made ; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be supplied.
Էջ 150 - The natural price of labour is that price which is necessary to enable the labourers, one with another, to subsist and to perpetuate their race, without either increase or diminution.
Էջ 76 - Some have too much, yet still do crave; I little have, and seek no more. They are but poor, though much they have, And I am rich with little store: They poor, I rich; they beg, I give; They lack, I leave; they pine, I live.
Էջ 73 - All seems beautiful to me, I can repeat over to men and women You have done such good to me I would do the same to you, I will recruit for myself and you as I go, I will scatter myself among men and women as I go, I will toss a new gladness and roughness among them...
Էջ 166 - Ring out the grief that saps the mind, For those that here we see no more; Ring out the feud of rich and poor, Ring in redress to all mankind.
Էջ 156 - Few paces have we taken, yet are weary — Our grave-rest is very far to seek : Ask the aged why they weep, and not the children, For the outside earth is cold, And we young ones stand without, in our bewildering, And the graves are for the old. 'True...
Էջ 156 - From the sleep wherein she lieth none will wake her, Crying, 'Get up, little Alice! it is day.' If you listen by that grave, in sun and shower, With your ear down, little Alice never cries; Could we see her face, be sure we should not know her, For the smile has time for growing in her eyes; And merry go her moments, lulled and stilled in The shroud by the kirk-chime. It is good when it happens," say the children, "That we die before our time.
Էջ 157 - we are weary And we cannot run or leap; If we cared for any meadows, it were merely To drop down in them and sleep. Our knees tremble sorely in the stooping, We fall upon our faces, trying to go; And underneath our heavy eyelids drooping The reddest flower would look as pale as snow. For, all day, we drag our burden tiring Through the coal-dark, underground; Or, all day, we drive the wheels of iron In the factories, round and round.
Էջ 179 - ... unjust, and brought about by any means, no matter how questionable, we would be compelled to work or to suffer the stated penalty, which might be either mulcting in damages or going to jail, not one scintilla of distinction, not one jot removed from slavery. It is strange how much men desire to compel other men to do by law. What we aim to achieve is freedom through organization. Arbitration is only possible when voluntary. It never can be successfully carried out unless the parties to a dispute...
Էջ 3 - He who will hear, to him the clarions of the battle call. How they call, and call, and call, till the heart swells that hears them! Strong soul and high endeavor, the world needs them now. Beauty still lies imprisoned, and iron wheels go over the good and true and beautiful that might spring from human lives. And they who fight with Ormuzd, though they may not know each other — somewhere, sometime, will the muster roll be called.

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