Reveille

Come forth, you workers!     Let the fires go cold -     Let the iron spill out, out of the troughs -     Let the iron run wild     Like a red bramble on the floors -     Leave the mill and the foundry and the mine     And the shrapnel lying on the wharves -     Leave the desk and the shuttle and the loom -     Come,     With your ashen lives,     Your lives like dust in your hands.     I call upon you, workers.     It is not yet light     But I beat upon your doors.     You say you await the Dawn     But I say you are the Dawn.     Come, in your irresistible unspent force     And make new light upon the mountains.     You have turned deaf ears to others -     Me you shall hear.     Out of the mouths of turbines,     Out of the turgid throats of engines,     Over the whistling steam,     You shall hear me shrilly piping.     Your mills I shall enter like the wind,     And blow upon your hearts,     Kindling the slow fire.     They think they have tamed you, workers -     Beaten you to a tool     To scoop up hot honor     Till it be cool -     But out of the passion of the red frontiers     A great flower trembles and burns and glows     And each of its petals is a people.     Come forth, you workers -     Clinging to your stable     And your wisp of warm straw -     Let the fires grow cold,     Let the iron spill out of the troughs,     Let the iron run wild     Like a red bramble on the floors....     As our forefathers stood on the prairies     So let us stand in a ring,     Let us tear up their prisons like grass     And beat them to barricades -     Let us meet the fire of their guns     With a greater fire,     Till the birds shall fly to the mountains     For one safe bough.