Page:When the Leaves Come Out (Chaplin 1917).pdf/39

 

High head and back unbending—fearless and true, Into the night unending; why was it you?

Heart that was quick with song, torn with their lead; Life that was young and strong shattered and dead.

Singer of manly songs (laughter and tears); Singer of Labor's wrongs, joys, hopes and fears.

Though you were one of us, what could we do? Joe, there were none of us needed like you.

We gave, however small, what Life could give; We would have given all that you might live.

Your death you held as nought, slander and shame. We from the awful thought shrank as from flame.

Each of us held his breath, tense with despair, You, who were close to Death, seemed not to care.

White-handed, loathsome Power, knowing no pause, Sinking in Labor's flower murderous claws!

Boastful, with leering eyes, blood dripping jaws; Accurst be the cowardice hidden in laws!

Utah has drained your blood, white hands are wet. We, of the "surging flood," NEVER FORGET!

Out songster! have your laws now had their fill? Know ye, his songs and cause ye cannot kill!

High head and back unbending "rebel true-blue," Into the night unending; why was it you? 