The Sons of Rest

Do you belong to the “Sons of Rest”?

     That powerful organization

That is here and there, and everywhere,

     Spread over this powerful nation?

Are you a member upon its books,

     In good and regular standing?

Small honor to you if that is true,

     Small attention are you commanding.

You’d better give up your membership,

     And unite with the Sons of Labor;

You would gain a name and healthful fame,

     And gain the respect of your neighbor.

The “Sons of Rest” is a hang-dog club,

     Run down at the heel and faded;

In spite of its name the members are lame,

     Half-hearted, ill-groomed and jaded.

The “Sons of Labor” are up to snuff,

     Get into the ranks and swell them;

Their heads are held high as

     It is easy enough to tell them.

Get out of the lodge of the “Sons of Rest”,

     And get into the “Sons of Labor”;

You will earn your pelf, and respect yourself,

     And gain the respect of your neighbor.

Oct. 22, ‘09