Men of England, wherefore plough For the Lords who lay you low? Wherefore weave with toil and care The rich robes your tyrants wear?
Wherefore feed and clothe and save From the cradle to the grave Those ungrateful drones who Drain your sweat - nay, drink your blood
Have ye Leisure, comfort, calm Shelter, food, love's gentle balm? Or what is ye buy so dear With your pain and with your fear
The seed ye sow another reaps The wealth ye find, another keeps THe robes ye weave, another wears The arms ye forge, another bears
Sow seed - but let no tyrant reap Find wealth - let no impostor heap Weave robes - let not the idle wear Forge arms - in your defence to bear
With plough and spade and hoe and loom Trace your grave and build your tomb And weave your winding sheet till fair England be your sepulchreTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
