Classic Poem

No more chant your old rhymes about bold Robin Hood,
His feats I do little admire.
I'll sing the achievements of General Ludd,
Now the hero of Nottinghamshire.
Brave Ludd was to measures of violence unused
Till his sufferings became so severe,
That at last to defend his own interests he roused,
And for the great fight did prepare.

The guilty may fear but no vengeance he aims
At the honest man's life or estate;
His wrath is entirely confined to wide frames
And to those that old prices abate.
Those engines of mischief were sentenced to die
By unanimous vote of the trade,
And Ludd who can all opposition defy
Was the grand executioner made.

And when in the work he destruction employs
Himself to no method confines;
By fire and by water he gets them destroyed,
For the elements aid his designs.
Whether guarded by soldiers along the highway,
Or closely secured in a room,
He shivers them up by night and by day
And nothing can soften their doom.

He may censure great Ludd's disrespect for the laws
Who ne'er for a moment reflects
That foul imposition alone was the cause
Which produced these unhappy effects.
Let the haughty the humble no longer oppress,
Then shall Ludd sheathe his conquering sword;
His grievances instantly meet with redress,
Then peace shall be quickly restored.

Let the wise and the great lend their aid and advice
Nor e'er their assistance withdraw,
Till full-fashioned work at the old-fashioned price
Is established by custom and law.
Then the trade when this arduous contest is o'er
Shall raise in full splendour its head;
And colting and cutting and squaring no more
Shall deprive honest workmen of bread.