The Voice of Toil – 🔆

I heard men saying,

Leave hope and praying,

All days shall be as all have been;

To-day and to-morrow bring fear and sorrow,

The never-ending toil between.

When Earth was younger mid toil and hunger,

In hope we strove, and our hands were strong;

Then great men led us, with words they fed us, And bade us right the earthly wrong.

Go read in story their deeds and glory,

Their names amidst the nameless dead;

Turn then from lying to us slow-dying

In that good world to which they led;

Where fast and faster our iron master,

The thing we made, for ever drives,

Bids us grind treasure and fashion pleasure For other hopes and other lives.

Where home is a hovel and dull we grovel,

Forgetting that the world is fair;

Where no babe we cherish, lest its very soul perish;

Where mirth is crime, and love a snare.

Who now shall lead us, what God shall heed us

As we lie in the hell our hands have won?

For us are no rulers but fools and befoolers,

The great are fallen, the wise men gone.

I heard men saying,

Leave tears and praying,

The sharp knife heedeth not the sheep;

Are we not stronger than the rich and the wronger,

When day breaks over dreams and sleep?

Come, shoulder to shoulder ere the world grows older! Help lies in nought but thee and me;

Hope is before us, the long years that bore us

Bore leaders more than men may be.

Let dead hearts tarry and trade and marry,

And trembling nurse their dreams of mirth,

While we the living our lives are giving

To bring the bright new world to birth.

Come, shoulder to shoulder ere

Earth grows older!

The Cause spreads over land and sea;

Now the world shaketh, and fear awaketh,

And joy at last for thee and me. ~ The Voice of Toil –


By Peace Truth

Life is like a bunch of roses. Some sparkle like raindrops. Some fade when there's no sun. Some just fade away in time. Some dance in many colors. Some drop with hanging wings. Some make you fall in love. The beauty is in the eye of the beholder. 🫂