The Labour Agitator

Henry Lawson, 1891

      Let the liar call me liar,
      And the robber call me thief.
      They can only fan the fire
      That is born of my belief.
      While I'm speaking, while I'm writing,
      To reform the wrongful laws,
      Well I know that I am fighting
      For the grand old Cause.

      See the army of the rebels
      Marching on for evermore.
      We are countless as the pebbles
      That are strewn along the shore.
      Agitating, agitating,
      Till the Truth has sealed the fate
      Of the wrongs that I am hating
      With the grand old Hate.

      Though no battle banner rustles
      In a smoke that blurs the blue,
      As when "heroes" poured from Brussels
      To the field of Waterloo,
      Though we do not hear the rattle
      Of the rifles in the wars,
      There is glory in the battle
      For the grand old Cause.

      See the army of the rebels
      Marching on for evermore.
      We are countless as the pebbles
      That are strewn along the shore.
      Agitating, agitating,
      Till the Truth has sealed the fate
      Of the wrongs that I am hating
      With the grand old Hate.

      No! I look not to the reaping
      In the dynasty of men,
      For I know that I'll be sleeping
      In a slandered grave e'er then.
      Till his right to man is given
      We'll rebel, and we'll rebel
      As we would rebel in heaven
      If it proved a hell.

      See the army of the rebels
      Marching on for evermore.
      We are countless as the pebbles
      That are strewn along the shore.
      Agitating, agitating,
      Till the Truth has sealed the fate
      Of the wrongs that I am hating
      With the grand old Hate.

      No! There's neither creed nor nation
      Where the Labour flag's unfurled,
      For the Labour agitation
      Breaks the barriers of the world.
      Let the rulers fly in terror
      With their scornful lips uncurled,
      One by one the gods of error
      From their thrones are hurled.

      See the army of the rebels
      Marching on for evermore.
      We are countless as the pebbles
      That are strewn along the shore.
      Agitating, agitating,
      Till the Truth has sealed the fate
      Of the wrongs that I am hating
      With the grand old Hate.