You Englishmen of each degree,
One moment listen unto me;
To please you all I do intend,
So listen to these lines I've penned.
From day to day you all may see
The poor are frowned upon by degrees
By them, you know, who never can
Do without the labouring man.

Old England's often led the van
But not without the labouring man.

In former days you must all know,
The poor man cheerful used to go,
Quite neat and clean, upon my life,
With his children and his darling wife;
And for his wages, it is said,
A fair day's wages he was paid;
But now to live he hardly can—
May God protect the labouring man.

There is one thing we must confess,
If England finds they're in a mess
And has to face the daring foe,
Unto the labouring man they go
To fight their battles, understand,
Either on sea or on the land;
Deny the truth we never can,
They call upon the labouring man.

Some for soldiers they will go,
And jolly sailors too, we know,
To guard old England day and night,
And for their country boldly fight;
But when they do return again
They are looked upon with great disdain;
Now in distress throughout the land
You may behold the labouring man.

When Bonaparte and Nelson too,
And Wellington at Waterloo,
Were fighting both by land and sea,
The poor man gained these victories.
Their hearts are cast in honour's mould,
The sailors and the soldiers bold;
And every battle, understand,
Was conquered by the labouring man.

The labouring man will plough the deep,
Till the ground and sow the wheat,
Fight the battles when afar,
Fear no danger or a scar;
But still they're looked upon like thieves
By them they keep at home at ease,
And every day throughout the land
They try to starve the labouring man.

Now if the wars should rise again
And England be in want of men,
They'll have to search the country round
For the lads that plough the ground.
Then to some foreign land they'll go,
To fight and drub the daring foe;
Do what they will, do what they can,
They can't do without the labouring man.