Organise!

*THE WORKER*

Brisbane, March 9, 1895.

Organise.

When Labour grovelled in the dust

Beneath the juggernaut of gold;

When greed, Monoply, and Trust

Held slaves in bondage, as of old;

I heard a voice that woke the dead,

A clarion note that rent the skies,

One single note was all it said,

That magic word was ORGANISE.

With sudden force its echoes boomed

From vale to vale, from hill to hill,

America's “Tyranny is doomed;”

And 'tis reverberating still,

The fetttered slaves took up the note,

When they rehearsed what freeman prize

And as the chorus grandly floats

Its swelling strain is ORGANISE.

From land to land, from sea to sea,

The gospel of our freedom spread,

Until, resolving to be free,

The weary workman raised his head,

And, with the dignity of right,

He looked the tyrant in the eyes,

And said, “Your only law is might,

And ours the right to ORGANISE.”

They organised in fits and starts,

Unmindful of this one great law,

That Unity is what imparts

Strength to the chain that has no flaw,

But to prepare a chain that can

Hold just the ship when storms arise,

We must get every working man

In this broad land to ORGANISE.

We must resolve, and re-solve,

And talk and talk “till crack of doom,”

The only thing that will evolve

From out the darkness and the gloom

Of poverty, to comfort, light,

And all this fact must realise,

Is, Labour's forces to unite!

And, to unite them, ORGANISE.

The sharks that corner meat and flour,

And other vitals of this land;

Where do they get the strength, the power,

To crush the poor at their command;

How can so many rich agree

In their control of earth's supplies?

'Tis simple, and a child can see;

They act as one, they ORGANISE!

Then meet them, workman, in your might,

With that good weapon they have made,

It will not fail you in the fight,

It is the true Damascus blade,

But work! Before you get that sword

You must enrol. And that implies,

You'll be a soldier with the word

And countersign of ORGANISE.

Yes, organise, ye millions, who

Produce the wealth of this great land,

That keeps in luxury the few

Proud souls that usury command,

Peace, plenty, and prosperity

Will come unbidden from the ties

Of brotherhood and unity,

Then ORGANISE, oh, ORGANISE.