At every puff there's a picture of gloom,
A moral in every pull.
Motionless wheels and idle loom,
What is their meaning in full?
Capital's greed and Labour's need
These be fair matters for fight.
Must Trade, though, suffer and poor hearts bleed?
Must wrong be the road to right?
Glad there is talk of a better way,
Truly 'tis worth the search;