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AROUSE Arouse! The rallying cry Sends its chorus up on high, Let craven cowards fly To the rear While we rally to the fight To our combat for the Right And Oppression put to flight We swear, For tyrants we have fought, And our blood (their gold has bought), They have lavished caring naught, In red streams, But the fight we have begun, On this earth shall ne'er be done Till the light of Freedoms sun On us gleams. At our lot might angels weep While we toil our master sleep, What we make our masters keep, And our gains, Are the wage--to buy our food, The poor shelter for our brood, And the fever which our blood Ever drains By our toil they keep their state, On our woes they rise, elate, Yet wonder when our hate To them ascends Where we build they enter in, What we earn those spoilers win, But we swear our slav'rys sin Soon shall end, The arouse! Ye workers all, Braving scaffold, sword and ball, And at Labours trumpet call Quick appear, For the day we long have sought, For which our fathers fought- The day with Freedom fraught Now is here! From Songs of Freedom, Connolly (1907) @Irish @union @labor filename[ AROUSE CB apr00  8note Sheet |
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