High head and back unbending--rebel, "true blue,"
Into the night unending; why was was it you ?
Heart that was quick with song torn with their lead ;
Life that was young and strong, shattered and dead.
Singer of manly songs, laughter and tears ;
Singer of Labor's wrongs joys hopes and fears ;
Though you were one of us, what could we do ?
Joe, there were none of us needed like you.
We gave, however small, what life could give ;
We would have given all that you might live.
Your death you held as naught, slander and shame :
We from the awful thought shrank as from flame.
Each of us held his breath, tense with despair,
You who were close to Death seemed not to care.
Whlte-handed loathsome Power, knowing no pause,
Sinking in Labor's flower, murderous claws.
Boastful, with leerlrig eyes--blood dripping jaws.
Accurst be the cowardice hidden in laws !
Utah has drained your blood ; white hands are wet ;
We of the "surging flood" never forget !
Our songsters! have your laws now had their fill ?
Know ye, his songs and Cause ye cannot kill.
High head and back unbending--such. men are few,
Into the night unending; why was it you ?
--Ralph Chaplin,
Notes
From the Queensland Newspaper The Daily Standard Jan 1916 p. 9.
Songs by and about Joe Hill are not rare in Australian newspapers, especially in the Labour Press
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