Out of the dark they came; out of the night
Of poverty and injury and woe,—
With flaming hope, their vision thrilled to light,—
Song on their lips, and every heart aglow;
They came, that none should trample Labor's right
To speak, and voice her centuries of pain.
Bare hands against the master's armored might!—
A dream to match the tools of sordid gain!
And then the decks went red; and the grey sea
Was written crimsonly with ebbing life.