Freedom For The Working Class!

Sometimes It Seemed To Me I Could Not Look At Those Silent Little Figures; That I Must Go North, To The Grim Coal Fields, To The Rocky Mountain Camps, Where The Labor Fight Is At Least Fought By Grown Men

Injustice Boils In Men's Hearts As Does Steel In Its Cauldron, Ready To Pour Forth, White Hot, In The Fullness Of Time.

I Am Not Blind To The Shortcomings Of Our Own People. I Am Not Unaware That Leaders Betray, And Sell Out, And Play False. But This Knowledge Does Not Outweigh The Fact That My Class, The Working Class, Is Exploited, Driven, Fought Back With The Weapon Of Starvation, With Guns And With Venal Courts Whenever They Strike For Conditions More Human, More Civilized For Their Children, And For Their Children's Children.

The Employment Of Children Is Doing More To Fill Prisons, Insane Asylums, Almshouses, Reformatories, Slums, And Gin Shops Than All The Efforts Of Reformers Are Doing To Improve Society.

If They Want To Hang Me, Let Them. And On The Scaffold I Will Shout Freedom For The Working Class!