Classic Poem

My grandfather worked when he was very young,
And his parents felt grieved that he should;
To be forced in the fields to scare away the crows,
To earn himself a bit of food.
The days they were long and his wages were but small,
And to do his best he always tried;
But times are better for us all
Since the old man died.

For the Union is started, unite, unite,
Cheer up, faint-hearted, unite, unite;
The work's begun, never to stop again
Since the old man died.

My grandfather said in the noontide of life,
Poverty was a grief and a curse;
For it brought to his home sorrow, discord and strife,
And kept him poor, with empty purse.
So he took a bold stand, he joined the Union band,
To help his fellow men he tried;
A Union man he vowed he'd stand
Till the day he died.

My grandfather's dead; as we gathered round his bed,
These last words to us he did say:
" Don't let your Union drop nor the agitation stop,
Or else you will soon rue the day.
Get united to a man for it's your only plan,
Make the Union your care and your pride.
Help on reform in every way you can."
Then the old man died.