McKenzie Benefit, Good Songs Well Sang—Monday.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume XVIII, Issue 4291, 10 September 1897, Page 2

McKenzie Benefit, Good Songs Well Sang—Monday.

THE SONG OF THE RANK AND FILE.

We toil, and our toil is incessant, from dawn to the close of the day, With poverty stalking behind us, and need ever pointing the way; We glean and we garner for others, who reck not our troubles the while, And build up the fame of the nations—we men of the rank and file. Where hardships are fearful and many, you'll find us undoubtedly there ; When forward progression is marching we never are found in the rear. With strong brawny arms that tire nob the desolate wilds we Bubdue, And call up tho spirit of plenty to lavish its wealth on a few. The plains and the valley that teem with abundance of fruit and of grain The wealth of oar labors confirm, and speak it again and again. E'en Mammon, th»b monarch unrighteous, appealed to mast certainly own That we are the stay of his kingdom, the pillars and props of his throne. Where pluck and endurance are needed oar place has been ever, and now j Your railways, your roads, and your bridge! are made by the sweat) of our brow ; The plague<stricken depths of the forest reecho the sound of our tread, The wild, arid wastes of the desert an strewc with the bones of our dead. Wherever beneath the broad heavens your fancy may lure you to roam, Or torrid or frigid the region, you'll find us at work and at home. The marts of the nations around you, tat workshop, the forge and the mill, Give voice lo our mighty contriving! and furnish the proof of our skill. The legions that ever must conquer, the armies and navies art we, For minus our thews and our sintws then where would your officers be ? 'Mid wars, desolation, and slaughter^ nn> daunted we ever have stood. Your empires are raised by our valour, their greatness baptised in our blood. The wealth that, for ever inoreasing, hii lordship with happiness dowers, Our courage and manhood beget him—the muscle that wins it is ours. And ours is the fame that enshrines him by toils on the land and the sea, The honor and glory he prides in, the ribbon he wears at hit knw. Ay, ours are the toil and the trouble, th« burden and heat of the day; Ay, ours are the labours rewarded by glory " ' not even a ray ["■'.' The rich man regards our pretensions with. only diadain in his smile, And leaves us to starve on his leavings-* . we m«n of the rank and file. South Dunedin. P. E, Nolan. in the Toilet*