MAN-POWER
Copyright 1985, S Hartwell 

Mighty as mountains whose faces we carve,
Hard as the rocks we have been set to hew,
Strong as the fetters which bind us as slaves,
While a chill cuts as deep as the keen metal blade
Of an axe as we toil night and day.

Arms toughened by the coarse haft they must wield,
Bodies tough as the fetters and shackles we wear,
Sinews of iron and muscles of steel,
Strong as an ox and subdued like a dog,
And numbed by the wind and the chill.

By our labour great forests have tumbled,
Stricken, the giant trunks fell,
Struck by our picks, mighty mountains have crumbled,
Their rocks still resound to our blows,
As once powerful pride is now humbled.

Mighty as mountains and sure as the axe blades,
Bound to our labour by manacled bonds,
Tough as the shackles now making us slaves,
Now humbled like mountains, imprisoned by iron,
Hear us chant to the jangle of chains.

SLAVE SONG
Copyright 1990, S Hartwell

The overseer's up the line a-whippin' poor men's backs,
The overseer's up the line a-drawin' sweat and blood,
He's there with his whip and his goad and his smile
And the body that's ne'er done work,
He's there with that gap-toothed grin, raising bile,
In throats of men who don't shirk.

Hear the crack of the lash as it beats your bare back,
Feel the sting of your sweat in the cut,
And blood trickling crimson among the old scars,
Hear the crack of the lash - and don't answer back!

The overseer's up the line a-whippin' sweating slaves,
The overseer's up the line a-makin' their lives hell,
He's there with the steel-tipped slaver's whip,
That cuts your flesh to shreds,
The one with the razor of steel at its tip,
That works you half to death.

Hear the crack of the lash as it beats your bare back,
Making you work till you drop,
Sweating and sunburnt and tired as death,
Hear the crack of the lash - and don't answer back.

The overseer's up the line so heft your hammers lads,
The overseer's up the line so strike those pegs in hard,
He's there with his sharp words, smile and his lash,
To whip you till you bleed,
He don't care 'bout slaves or human trash,
He only cares for speed.

Hear the crack of the lash as it beats your bare back,
Feel the sting of your sweat in the cut,
And blood trickling crimson among the old scars,
Hear the crack of the lash - and don't answer back!

Hear the flash of the lash and your muscles crack,
As the flail comes down on your whip-scarred back,
Hear the flash of the lash and your muscles crack,
As the flail comes down on your whip-scarred back,
Hear the flash of the lash and ......