(Slightly altered from Rudyard Kipling’s Ode in praise of English Enterprise.)
We have fed you all for a thousand years,
And you hail us still unfed,
Though there’s never a pound of all your pounds
But marks the workers’ dead;
We have yielded our best to give you rest,
And you lie on a crimson wool,
For if blood be the price of England’s wealth,
Good God, we ha’ paid in full.
There’s never a mine blown skyward now
But we’re buried alive for you;
There’s never a wreck drifts shoreward now
But it’s we are the ghastly crew;
Go, reckon our dead by the forges red,
And the factories where we spin;
If blood be the price of England’s wealth,
Good God, we ha’ paid it in.
We have fed you all for a thousand years,
For that was our doom, you know,
From the days when you chained us in your fields
To the strike of a week ago;
You have eaten our lives and our babes and wives,
And we’re told it’s your legal share;
But if blood be the price of England’s wealth,
Good God, we ha’ bought it fair.
N.
From: Freedom : A Journal of Anarchist Communism, September 1893. https://archivesautonomies.org/IMG/pdf/nonfrenchpublications/english/freedom/freedom-volume07-n080.pdf