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Henry Lawson - The Labour Agitator
Work rating: Low

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.
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