Upton Sinclair, ed. (1878–1968). rn The Cry for Justice: An Anthology of the Literature of Social Protest. 1915.

Tom Dunstan: or, the Politician
(“How Long, O Lord, How Long?”)

Robert Buchanan

(English novelist and dramatist, 1814–1901)

CROSS-LEGG’D on the board we sat,

Like spiders spinning,

Stitching and sweating, while fat

Old Moses, with eyes like a cat,

Sat greasily grinning;

And here Tom said his say,

And prophesied Tyranny’s death;

And the tallow burned all day,

And we stitch’d and stitch’d away

In the thick smoke of our breath.

Poor worn-out slops were we,

With hearts as heavy as lead;

But “Patience! she’s coming!” said he;

“Courage, boys! wait and see!

Freedom’s ahead!”…

But Tom was little and weak,

The hard hours shook him;

Hollower grew his cheek,

And when he began to speak

The coughing took him.

And at last the cheery sound

Of his voice among us ceased,

And we made a purse, all round,

That he mightn’t starve, at least.

His pain was awful to see,

Yet there, on his poor sick-bed,

“She’s coming, in spite of me!

Courage, and wait!” cried he;

“Freedom’s ahead!”

Ay, now Tom Dunstan’s cold,

All life seems duller;

There’s a blight on young and old,

And our talk has lost the bold

Red-republican color.

But we see a figure gray,

And we hear a voice of death,

And the tallow burns all day,

And we stitch and stitch away

In the thick smoke of our breath;

Ay, while in the dark sit we,

Tom seems to call from the dead—

“She’s coming! she’s coming!” says he;

“Courage, boys! wait and see!

Freedom’s ahead!”