The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1903-12-29
For THE MESSENGER -
THE LAsoRER."
(By t. Shelley Sutton. J

(By T. Shelley Sutton.)
The horny hand OF Labor by whose strength
The wheels Of Progress have forever turned,
Creating wealth through all the nations length
Yet leaving thee, and thine, the crumb dis
cerned
BY thy strong fingers has our Fate been held
Upon thy toll the nations hope relies
Be thou a slave, and ManhoOd's death is
knelled-
Be thou man, and Freedoms flag shall rise!
Well dost thou guide the reins Industr'al-well
Perform thy sacred mlssion-well indeed,
Discharge the task which on thy shoulders fell:
Why, then, should man not grant thy every
needs
Like Sisyphus, thou hast up-borne the rock,
And placed boundless burden on thy back:
Whence CONES this voice that would thy
pleadings mock .
Whence comes the force that holds thee to
the rack
When hast thy hand its compensation claspeds
Where lies the profit Of it's endless strife
Where is the product of the tools it grasped
Where IS the wealth for which it gives its
life
Not here, oh, Labor, in this murky hut
Where sleeps the starving infant; and not
there
In that grim path where Want is leering; but
In that domain Of grandeur, rich and rare,
Where dwells the drone that would deny thy
crust
The monarch-master who. by shrewd design,
Creates the tyrant that is known as Trust
Amassing fortunes that in truth were thine
Denying thee thy liberty to name
Thy daily wages. yet who dares 10 place
price upon thy product Oh, what shame,
What infamy, beslimes our selfish race
Were't not for thee-:hou brawny arm of Toll
Where now this wondrous progress of the
world
Yet such as Judas would our justice foil
The while our flag by treason's hand is
furled !
Traitors are are these who dare assail thy
cause.
Denounce thy struggle or condemn thy right
Claiming thy wrists By partial. party laws
And making Labor but thing TO blight
Behold yon mighty structure, firm and proud,
Which rears its dazzling dome to azure skies
kissing the crimson Of the passing cloud -
1t is the work of men whom drones despise.
| Art, Science, knowledge what we're these but
vain
| Did Labor's hand not execute the plan
What were the dreams OF Genius, were the
chain
Not forged and welded by the common man
The architects triumphant grand design
! Were but the picture of far Ideal,
Too vague for hope, too lofty to be thine
Did Labor's strength not make that vision
real
Inventions Scheme-moSt intricate and deep
Were but the madness of morbid brain
The shapeless spectre of a troubled sleep
Were't not for Labor's consummating reign.
Art, on her throne, would perish, as she
dreamed
Crawling, degenerate. in the dust OF time;
The star OF Science, which undimmed hath
CLEANED,
Would hide its light behind some stagnani
slime;
knowledge, itself. would be barren tree,
And Man a hopeless savage OF the wild;
Cities would fall. and hideous Crime go free
Virtue and Truth would be by wolves defled
What then is due, Oh, Labor, to thy pow'rs
What is our debt of gratitude and praise =
A crust of bread to stay The final hour
A mite OF fuel for the dying blaze
a hut TO shield thee from the cold
A bit of rag to hide thy chilling limbs,
But let thy master claim the Nations gold,
BE thou suoservient to his daily whims-
Be thou beast Of burden-aye, brute
Too dumb for reason and too numb for pain.
With tasteless tongue that does not crave the
fruit
And callous hand that does not know the
chain
A thoughtless mind that does not care 10 think
A helpless heart that does not dare to feel,
A back too bent 10 break its binding link,
A soul too lost TO know that life is real
Too base for pride, too miserable for hope
a human beast, unworthy of the name,
Providing feasts that We may feebly grope
Where Famine frowns on poverty and shame
Be thou content. Dare not demand thy right
Let others name thy value. 'Tis for thee
To bear the burdsns of the world. nor fight
Against the burning wrong of Tyranny
Desert Land, Final Proof --NOtios for Publication