My Songs (1935)
My songs are for the masses, for the poor and trodden down,For the sweated slaves on land and sea and toilers of the town ;
For the drudges who are plundered for the drones and Christless rich.
The mothers in the hovel and the children of the ditch.
My songs are for the driven mobs that profiteers control.
The men who delve and quarry and the drifters on the dole :
For the artisans that, fettered, toil in soulless industries.
The millions who by Famine's whip, are beaten to their knees.
My songs are for the fathers who have struggled long and hard,
On the battlefields of Poverty, for little real reward ;
For the martyrs of the people, who on Mammon's altars bleed,
For the heroes of the working-class—the dauntless rebel breed.
My songs are for the soldiers who have fought in endless wars,
To win for Greed his royalties and bloat the despot, Mars ;
For the patriots, unpitied, who have given up their lives,
For their sons enslaved and murdered, and their daughters and their wives.
My songs are for the future and a day that is to be,
When Justice shall with triumph crown the dreams of Liberty;
When the earth and all its beauty to the people shall belong.
And Right shall reign, where ranted once, the wicked priests of Wrong.
My songs are for the rebels that in other years will come.
With the crimson flag of brotherhood and freedom-calling drum ;
For I hate the mad dictators who like bloody beasts of prey.
Have filled the world with broken hearts, with ruin and decay.
J. K. McDOUGALL.
A song from the Great Depression
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