When Mister Chamberlain has done counting o' the slain,
And Keir Hardie a-explaining his rejection;
When Tillett and John Burns have both taken of their turns
At wildly lamming into one another,
It might help to "cool their parritch" if they cast a glance at Harwich,
And the state o' their poor shrimping "man and brother."
Ah! above our nets to stoop, and to scrape, and scratch, and scoop,
In loneliness laborious and risky,
Is not a task, in truth, to encourage sturdy youth,
Or make work-worn old age alert and frisky,