and early, comrade dear; To-morrow'll be the biggest day of all the sad New Year; Of all the sad New Year, mate, the biggest, brightest day; For to-morrow's the First of May, chummy, to-morrow's our First of May.
There'll be many a dark, dark eye, chummy, by Thames, and Seine, and Rhine, There'll be SALISBURY, and CARNOT, and Caprivi to peak and pine. For there'll be a stir of the Labourer in every land, they say, And Toil's to be Queen o' this May, chummy, Toil's to be Queen o' this May.
I do sleep sound at night, chummy, but to-morrow morn I'll wake; The Cry of the Crowd will sound aloud in my ear ere dawn shall break. 'Twill muster with its booming bands and with its banners gay; For to-morrow's the Feast of May, brother, to-morrow's our Feast of May.
They've kept us scattered till now, comrade; but that no more may be: Our shout goes up in unison by Thames, Seine, Rhine and Spree. We are not the crushed-down crowd, chummy, we were but yesterday. We're full o