Australian Folk Songs
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The Happy Land (1892) Where is the landlord's happy land ?
The country wrenched from Saxon hand,
Or Scotia wild, or Ireland green,
Or little Wales, of lands the queen.
No, landlord, no !
Your happy land's not bounded so. Where is the landlord's happy land ?
Wherever greed can close the hand.
Wherever, power can crush the weak,
Or fraud can sheath its bloody beak
In human heart. There take your stand,
There, landlord, is your happy land. Where is the parson's happy land ?
Where workers scarce dare upright stand ;
Where they throw insult in the face,
And preaoh of "Thrift" with impious grace ;
--Where canting rapine's wolfish game
Is played in the Almighty's name.
There, parson, is your happy land. Where is the parson's happy land ?
Where grasping bishop's surpliced stand,
With shovel hats and unctious face,
Preaching "Content" as saving grace.
Where wages slaves with bowed-down head ?
Await the haughty parson's tread.
There, parson, is your happy land. Where is the sweater's happy land ;
Where men and women starving stand ;
In every nation's filthy slums,
Where manhood goes and money comes ;
Briton, Russian, French or Swab--
Wher'er there's anything to grab.
There, sweater, is your happy land. Workers, arise ! assert your might,
Join in the Socialistic fight,
Till right shall triumph over might,
And darkness be dispersed by light.
Let workers form a solid band
To make our own a happy land,
To make our own a happy land. Arise ! arise ! crush out the foe,
And drive those hell-hounds down below.
Aye, sweep them out, till men can stand
And claim at last a happy land. London Workman's Times. Notes
From the Queensland Newspaper the Worker June 1892 p. 3.
australian traditional songs . . . a selection by mark gregory