Classic Poem

Play up, play up, my Piper,
And play the timely song,
The song that never a worker hears,
Although his heart may long.
It's we are glad to listen here
Who have but Yea and Nay;
But would you only pipe to us
The word we want to-day!

We heard your heart-break, Piper;
And oh, but it was like!
'Tis so—'tis so, the ill winds blow,
'Tis so the sorrows strike.
But would you only pipe to us
The turning of the way,
And how it is you come, at last,
To pipe again, to-day!

The broken hopes of harvest,
The wearing of the rain,
The ailing of a little cheek,
You make us weep again.
But tell us of the wage, man,
You had for this hard day;
Play up, play up, dear Piper,
And tell us why you play!