The Connecticut labor news., 1921-10-28
THE CRY OF THE PEOPLE
Before the Repeal of the Corn Laws)

tors NoteThis poem was written by Chares Mackay in the early part I846 and is one of number cntitlG eople." It. written time of social and political the Corn Laws" unrepcaled and Sir Robert Pc d the downfall of the old protective system):
 Of toll and sorrow; and our pallid faces Shrivel before their time. Early and late
 We labour in our old accustom paces' Beside close and melancholy ooms
 Or wither in the coa1-seams dark and dreary,
 or in the healthier fields dig till we weary, And grow old men ere we have reachd W our prme For it is hard to labour night and day, IT, With eyes ;o and fs11 GmPes nc"s
 The hunger ''c of our little ones, that waking Weep for their daily bread '1is hard to
 'Tis hard to have no thought of human gladncss But expressing agony for bread To haunt toil and in our bed.
 Old witherd leaves of ,who fading, cumbcr Long for that pleasant fosse, six feet by twain,
 Youthful, warm blooded with life to chersh Offer in vain snews and skill Tn For sarvng d and Eft mo5t ao perish Because food is dearer than toll. lis hard to know that the increase of wealth
 Makes richer, gives reliance;
 
 Follow the footsteps of advancing science, They shower no benefits Us,
 From the fair highways of the world, to wander In dark paths darkly grouping still about, And at each turn condenn'd rest and ponder If living be the only aim of life Mere living, purchased by perpetual strife? We rise in gref-in grief lie down again; We InoW no0e 0 "r e Gt ee M a m @ 0ur gee As if we had no souls; as if, stone-bind
 We Ripen'd the fruits of earth with influence kind; a That harvest ought to be a welcome conner To and ours and that in Natures face Were smiles of joy for all the human We E ask mot not much We have no dread of toil;- Even though doubled all our and moil, Ralment and ood-and snelt ring roofs to hide us If If we could see our wives e9ncnted round us,
 Nor fear that days hunger should confound us, e Wfth n 0yd ae hese and one M sweet day o rest But these sesh for all our days in vain
 And find remedy wherever see kit;- Some of us, reckless, and grown mad with pain Have made huge bonhres of the hoarded corn, IT. And despairlng came to foreign regions, Hopeless of this, have saild away forlorn,
 To find new homes and swear new allegiance. But we that stay d behind had relief, No added corn, and diminishd grief And rich kindly urge endurc
 Ana ma they VIII send ua ciersymen 10 bless Us; And lords who play at cricket with the poor
 Ihnk they HaNt tu all wills that OppreSS And then think endurance Is a crime:
 JtellCc gain
 1uuuldcS sublime
 When rising, armd, they combat obtain it. And dabbllng in thick gore, IS if 'twere dew, Seek not alone their rights, but Vengeance too But these are evil thoughts; for well know, From the sad history of all times and places, That fire, and blood and social overthrow
 Lead but to harder grinding of our faces When all IS from strife withdrawn
 We wait i'll patience through the night of sorrow And watch the far-of gmpscs of the dawn
 Ihat shall assure Us of brighter morrow. And meanwhile from the overburdend soG Our cry ot anguish rises up to God!