THE GOOD TIME COMING. 203 shall be War in all men's eyes A monster of iniquity, In the good time coming. There's a good time coming, boys, Hateful rivalries of creed Shall not make their martyrs bleed) And flourish all the stronger; There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: And a poor man's family Shall not be his misery In the good time coming. Every child shall be a help, To make his right arm stronger; The happier he, the more he has ;Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: Little children shall not toil, Under, or above, the soil, In the good time coming; But shall play in healthful fields Till limbs and mind grow stronger; And every one shall read and write ;Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, The people shall be temperate, And make all virtue stronger. The reformation has begun;- There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: Let us aid it all we can, Every woman, every man, The good time coming. Smallest helps, if rightly given, Make the impulse stronger; 'Twill be strong enough one day; Wait a little longer. THE WANTS OF THE PEOPLE. 1846. WHAT do we want? Our daily bread; Leave to earn it by our skill : Leave to labor freely for it, Leave to buy it where we will : To starve and die for want of work, What do we want? Our daily bread; And Frenzy gallops through our veins. What do we want? Our daily bread: And the happiness of home; Kindly feelings, Education, Liberty for act and thought; And surety that, whate'er befall, Our children shall be fed and taught. What do we want? Our daily bread; God has shower'd upon the soil; With bold hearts and judgment strong, To do as much as men can do To keep the world from going wrong. What do we want? Our daily bread, And trade untrammel'd as the wind; To take their share of loftier work, What do we want? Our daily bread: Grant it: make our efforts free; THE THREE PREACHERS. THERE are three preachers, ever preaching, Fill'd with eloquence and power. One is old, with locks of white, Skinny as an anchorite ; And he preaches every hour With a shrill fanatic voice, And a Bigot's fiery scorn: Born to drudge, and sweat, and suffer- The second is a milder preacher; Issue glibly from his tongue. High he lifts his fair white hands: 'STAND YE STILL! ye restless nations; And be happy, all ye lands! |