Sons of poverty assemble, Ye whose hearts with woe are riven, Let the guilty tyrants tremble, Who your hearts such pain have given. We will never From the shrine of truth be driven. Must ye faint—ah! how much longer? Better by the sword to die Than to die of want and hunger: They heed not your feeble cry: Lift your voices— Lift your voices to the sky. Rouse them from their silken slumbers, Trouble them amidst their pride: Swell your ranks, augment your numbers, Spread the Charter far and wide! Truth is with us: God Himself is on our side. See the brave, ye spirit-broken, That uphold your righteous cause; Who against them hath not spoken? They are, just as Jesus was, Persecuted By bad men and wicked laws. Dire oppression, Heaven decrees it, From our land shall soon be hurled: Mark the coming time and seize it— Every banner be unfurled! Spread the Charter! Spread the Charter through the world. |
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