From: The Factory-Bell and Other Poems (1873)
Author: Daniel Ricketson
Published: E. Anthony & Sons 1873 New Bedford
Ho! for free trade, ye sons of toil, Throw out the banner to the wind! No more should selfish millionaires The evils of the older world Unless aroused with might and main Not chartered right, but human right! A currency upheld by gold— ‘T is agriculture, first and best; Let not our land become the seat Of prisons for the exiled poor, No land monopolies should here But ever worthy of his hire The wrong that to the poor is done For He who orders all above, ‘T is equal justice through the laud Repeal the laws that man hath made!
A commerce from oppression free,
The land ye till, in truth free soil,
Yourselves the sons of Liberty.
Write on its folds the words so brave:
“Freedom to Trade, to Soil, to Mind!”
And thus our Nation’s honor save.
Control our nation’s weal or woe,
But every one by goods and wares,
Have equal chance in wealth to grow.
Already thunder at our door,
And soon their bolts, in fury hurled,
May seal our fate forevermore—
To meet the common foe of all,
Tho tocsin ring from hill to plain,
Through every village, farm and hall.
The right of every honest man
To reap the fruit of labor’s might—
The right to think, to work, or plan.
A paper dollar good at par—
A hundred cents, as was of old—
No discount base its worth to mar.
‘T is commerce from her chains set free,
Mechanic arts by freedom blest,
That shall maintain our liberty.
But seeking souls a welcome meet,
And room within the open door.
E’er exercise their base control;
Nor corporations, far and near,
Wreak on the poor their want of soul:
Let every honest laborer be,
And all whom higher aims inspire,
Have equal rights on land or sea.
Will not alone upon them rest,
But surely as the constant sun,
Oppressor suffer with oppressed.
Hath so ordained the life of man,
That other than the law of Love
Must ever find His sovereign ban.
That can alone insure success,
All else will prove a rope of sand,
And fall before almightiness.
Which now too oft protect the knave,
And give once more to toil and trade
The rights that nature kindly gave.
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