At last we’ve won the sought-for-joys

that any man would crave.

And we were right when we fought the fight

till the bloody owners caved.

Now we have a fiddler

and a caller our songs to call

so with-your-arms held tight around me,

we’ll dance about the hall.

I’ll smell the rose scent in your hair,

while you give my bruises tending.

I’ll smoke my pipe,

rest in my chair

and doze while I am mending.

How long ago, our reluctance.

Our Damn-ed hesitations.

To think we might have lost our rght

to achieve our aspirations!

Come morn we return to the bloody coal,

to the dust and sweat and pain.

We’ll work and abide by the settlement

till it’s time to strike again.