The Honest Working Man
Marie Joussaye
As through the world we take our way
How oftentimes we hear
The praises sung of wealthy men,
Of prince, and duke and peer.
The poets tell us of their fame,
They are lauded o'er the land,
But you very seldom hear them sing
Of the honest working man.
They praise the wealthy banker,
The purse-proud millionaire;
Their pockets have golden lining,
So they're praised from everywhere.
Let others sing the praises
Of those darlings of the land,
But mine shall be a nobler theme--
The honest working man.
Let monarchs prize their glittering crowns
And all their royal host,
Let lordlings brag of their blue blood--
They have nothing else to boast.
But what is all their rank, compared
To our hero, true and grand,
One of fair Nature's noblemen--
The honest working man.
His hands may be both rough and hard,
His clothes and speech be plain,
But you will find his manly heart
Without a spot or stain.
And there are some whose clothes are fine.
Whose hands are soft and white,
But the secret records of their lives
Could never bear the light.
May Heaven's choicest blessings fall
Upon that hero's head,
Who bravely toils throughout each day
To earn his loved ones bread.
You'll find no monarch who can show
A record half so grand.
God bless great labor's true-born knight--
The honest working man.
So now of Fortune's favored ones,
Henceforth let less be said,
And more be spoken of the man
Who toils for daily bread.
God bless each hardy son of toil
That labors in the land.
