THE SONG OF THE BANK AND FILE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2205, 4 June 1896, Page 41

THE SONG OF THE BANK AND FILE.

We toil, and our toil is incessant from dawn to the close of the day, "With poverty stalking behind ua and need ever pointing the way j We glean and we garner for others who t«o"k not our troubles the while, And build up the fame of the nations— we men of the rank and file I Where hardships are fearful and many you'll find us undoubtedly there j When for ward' progression is marching we never are found in the rears With strong brawny arms that tire not the desolate wilds we subdue, And call np the spirit of plenty to lavish its wealth on a few. The plains and the valleys that teem with abundance of fruit and of grain The worth of our labours confirm, and speak it I again and again. E'en Mammon, that monarch unrighteous, appealed to must certainly own That we, are the stay of his kingdom, the pillars and props of his throne. Where pluck and endurance are needed our place has been ever, and now } Your railways, your roads, and your bridges are made by the sweat of our brow ; The plague-striclien depths of the forest re-echo the sound of our tread, The wild, arid wastes of the desert are strewn with the bones of our dead. Wherever beneath the blue azure 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 yon, the work* shop,- the forge, and the mill, Give voloe-to our mighty contrivings and furnish the proof of our skill. j The legions that ever must conquer, the armies ! and navies are we, For minus our thews and our sinews thon where 1 would your officers be? ! 'Mid war's desolation and slaughter undaunted we ever have stood, Your empires are raised by our valour, their greatness baptised in our blood. The wealth that, for ever increasing, his lordship with happiness dowera Our courage and manhood beget him— the musole that wins it is our 3. And ours is the fame that enshrines him by toils on the land and the sea, , The honour and glory he prides in, the ribbon he wears at the kneo. Ay, ours are the toil and the trouble, the burden and heat of the day ; Ay, ours are the labours rewarded by glory not even a ray I The rich num. regards our pretensions with only disdain in his smile, And leaves us to etar?e on his leavings— we men of the rank and tile. South Dunedin, May 1896. —P. E. NoiAN.