The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #73529   Message #1275687
Posted By: Q (Frank Staplin)
19-Sep-04 - 02:05 PM
Thread Name: Lyr Add: The Carpet Weaver's Bee Hive
Subject: Lyr Add: THE CARPET WEAVER'S BEE HIVE
Lyr. Add: THE CARPET WEAVER'S BEE HIVE

From the old land of cakes came an emigrant man,
A kneader of dough was this Sawney;
Resolved was he in this good countrie
By hook or by crook to make money.

So meek and devout did this creature appear,
Folks thought him pure piety's sample;
And they said as they walk'd from his store with a loaf
This man is a perfect example.

Now Sawney made money, but not fast enough,
He some notable plan must contrive;
And soon on the banks of Passaic he rear'd
A monstrous, but splendid Bee-Hive.

To strengthen his plan, four suitable men
He instantly called to his aid;
And a merciless drone to manage the hive,
Who suited his purpose, he said.

Most graciously then he invited all Bees,
From each nation and tongue to make honey;
So temptingly then as he spread out his flowers,
And he laughed, as he thought of the money.

But a question arose 'tween this man and his bees,
Which greatly did kindle his ire;
They ask'd as he carried off honey and Combs
Was nought to be left as their hire?

But finding that flattery, his usual resort,
Was productive of nothing like harmony,
He vowed, the vile discontents soon to replace,
By poor starving rats out of Germany.

These sore injur'd Bees, like some wise folk of old,
After holding together communion,
Agreed to defend both their business and rights,
By a firm, and a brotherlike union.

This madden'd the tyrant, he rav'd and he foam'd,
Fierce passion of reason bereft him;
Now pale and alone, excepting his Drone,
He remains, for his Bees all left him.

MORAL

May tyrants always meet their due,
And honest men contrive,
By honest means, in union true,
To store their little hive.

If law extend its shelt'ring wing,
) may we ne'er abuse it;
If nature kind, give bees a sting,
Now is it wrong to use it?

So, now that we are on the wing,
Another home to find;
'Mongst lovely flowers, we'll sometimes sing
Of Newark left behind.

This 19th c. poem, about emigrant labor, low pay and unionizing, seems worth remembering.
Of course it is hopelessly out of date. We, as stockholders, dissatisfied with income from stock in the company, encourage management to ship the factory work offshore, close the bee hive, and fire those pesky worker bees.

American Memory, Broadside # 23, no date or printer.
Carpet Weaver's Bee Hive