The Labor enquirer., 1883-10-06
Written for The Enquirer.
"ONLY A LABORER.s -
By T. T.. ROWLAND
BY T. r. ROWLAND.
"Who shall judge man by his manners ?
Who shall know him by his dress ?
Paupers may be fit for princes; sgi.#
Princes ft for something less, n!

Paupefs may be fit for princes; sG4F
4 Princes fit for something less.n r. !
5I ,sl #ggf & rF Anonymous.
''Only a Laborer,p she said, and turned, ,ga
Her naughty foce to the pictured wall
Where the Pickering ray of sunlight burned
And the gloomy shadows Fever fall.
'Only a Laborer," her hands twine round
The silken folds Of her morning dress;
Her Heart beats low with mufied sound,
As she sits alone in her loveliness.
"Only Laborer," " her lips have said, :.
With asneer ringing out in every word;
With the diamonds aglow on her pretty head
/ And her voice as softas a singing bird. r
"Only Laborer, " her bright eyes gleam,
Bright with the lustre of starry skies.
Full in the light she sits to, dream, z-
With sneer in her sparkling eyes.
"Only a Laborer," i" so the world says,
And rolls along to the Judgment Day,
With never song in the toilers praise,
And only mite of his well-earned pay.
''Only Laborer' 20, ignorant preachingD
False is the heart that may utter such sneer,
Cruel the lips to learn such teaching
And kneel before God not in trembling and
Climb this steep hill with me and let us look
Down the deep valley, where the city
winds, '4 ~
1t lies all rich and fair before us like book,
Readable and clear, the labor of great
minds. g..
Those bridges. poised on mounds of mighty
rocks,
Symmetrical and strong, with just touch
of beauty,
Thro' many years they've borne the tempest
shock,
And yet they stand to do their duty.
See the dense clouds that often hide the sun,
How high they mount, expanding as they
rise,
Circling around they wheel in sportive fun,
It'll pure as gold they seek the upper skies.
Like Troy's great wall the workshops dense
ly lie,
The stroke of Labor echoes far and near,
The Whirr of wheels is loud and clear,
And broken songs from parched lips fl oat by.
Your eyes are good? Then look around
and see
The plain-girt city, populous and great,
The wealth of nations at her golden gate,
The leagues. of track winding o er hill and lea.
The massive domes of stately mansions mark,
Pillowed and arched to please the builders
taste;
And where they rise was once a trackless
waste,
Adown the stream the redman steered his
bark,
And hOwled the wolf, ran the sportive deer,
And crouched the panther when the coast
was clear.
Now roar of commerce fills each thorough
fare,
And no dread call alarms the watcher there,
To whom give credit, may ask,
For all this wondrous change?
Not surely unto to those who bask
Where sunbeams ever range.
Nor unto those who ever mourn,
With folded arms, sad brow,
Who never to the future turn,
Their vessels pointed prov.
Not unto those my laurel goes;
have no faith in them;
To all industries they are foes,
They'll wear no diadem.
My laurel crown is twined for one
Who since the world began,
Feared not the heat of shining sun
The Honest Workingman!
Great men are great according to their brains,
We judge not men by length ofreal estate,
Neither because the Family blood" pertains
To "Royal Lines" who governed Church
or State.
A great mans life is sifted of its dust,
And what is pure In homage is inurned,
So time may not corrode the gold with rust,
When men are dead who DER their ashes
mOurned.