<h2><SPAN name="poem14"></SPAN>THE VOICES OF THE PEOPLE</h2>
<p class="poetry">Oh! I hear the people calling through the day
time and the night time,<br/>
They are calling, they are crying for the coming of the right
time.<br/>
It behooves you, men and women, it behooves you to be heeding,<br/>
For there lurks a note of menace underneath their plaintive
pleading.</p>
<p class="poetry">Let the land usurpers listen, let the
greedy-hearted ponder,<br/>
On the meaning of the murmur, rising here and swelling yonder,<br/>
Swelling louder, waxing stronger, like a storm-fed stream that
courses<br/>
Through the valleys, down abysses, growing, gaining with new
forces.</p>
<p class="poetry">Day by day the river widens, that great river of
opinion,<br/>
And its torrent beats and plunges at the base of greed’s
dominion.<br/>
Though you dam it by oppression and fling golden bridges
o’er it,<br/>
Yet the day and hour advances when in fright you’ll flee
before it.</p>
<p class="poetry">Yes, I hear the people calling, through the
night time and the day time,<br/>
Wretched toilers in life’s autumn, weary young ones in
life’s May time—<br/>
They are crying, they are calling for their share of work and
pleasure;<br/>
You are heaping high your coffers while you give them scanty
measure,—<br/>
You have stolen God’s wide acres, just to glut your swollen
purses—<br/>
Oh! restore them to His children ere their pleading turns to
curses.</p>
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