A Call to the Proletariat

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Proletariat,

To you I call, loud and vaunting, fain my lungs suffice,

I call to you most remote, you most chaste, you most obscure,
Above the Rockies and to the Ganges i sound my call,
Across the Chihuahuan and across the Sahara.

To you i call, the worker,
The Hammer,
The Sickle.
Yet the same i call to the shovel, the reaper, the democrat-load, the mower,
The Jenny, and the mill wherein you repose.

To you I call, but wish you not call back.

I ask but a paean of the multitude,
Your March,
Shaking Heaven and Earth,
Is reply enough.

Proletariat.





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