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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=373966" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Last Appeal</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">KNOWING our needs, hardly knowing our powers, <br>Hear how we cry to you, brothers of ours!-- <br>Brothers in nature, pulse, passions, and pains, <br>Our sins in you, and your blood in our veins. <br>First in your palace, or last in our den, <br>Basest or best, we are all of us men! <br>Justice eternal cries out in our name, <br>What is the least common manhood can claim? <br>'Food that we make for you, <br>Money we earn: <br>Give us our share of them-- <br>Give us our turn.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Landowners, bankers, and merchants, we make <br>Out of our lives this new wealth that you take. <br>Have we earned only such pitiful dole <br>As just holds worn body to desolate soul? <br>When that soul is bewildered each day and perplext <br>With the problem of how to get bread for the next, <br>Is it better to end it, as some of us do, <br>Or to fight it out bravely, still calling to you-- <br>'Food that we make for you, <br>Money we earn: <br>Give us our share of them-- <br>Give us our turn'? </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Ever more passionate grows our demand-- <br>Give us our share of our food and our land: <br>Give us our rights, make us equal and free-- <br>Let us be all we are not, but might be. <br>Our sons would be honest, our daughters be pure, <br>If our wage were more certain, your vices less sure-- <br>Oh, you who are forging the fetters we feel, <br>Hear our wild protest, our maddened appeal-- <br>'Food that we make for you, <br>Money we earn: <br>Give us our share of them-- <br>Give us our turn.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Hear us, and answer, while Time is your friend, <br>Lest we be answered by God in the end; <br>Lest, when the flame of His patience burns low, <br>We be the weapon He shapes for His blow-- <br>Lest with His foot on your necks He shall stand, <br>And appeal that you spurned be new-born as command, <br>And thunder your doom, as you die by the rod <br>Of the vengeance of man through the justice of God. <br>'Food that we make for you, <br>Money we earn: <br>Give us our share of them-- <br>Give us our turn.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edith+Nesbit">Edith Nesbit</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=373966" data-title="A Last Appeal de Edith Nesbit" data-description="KNOWING our needs, hardly knowing our powers, 
Hear how we cry to you, brothers of ours!-- 
Brothers in nature, pulse, passions, and pains, 
Our sins in you, and your blood in our veins. 
First in your palace, or last in our den, 
Basest or best, ..."></div>
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