"The Rebel" lyrics
I've come of the seed of the people
Of a people who sorrow
That have no treasures but hope
No riches laid up
But a memory of an ancient glory
My mother, she bore me in bondage
In bondage my mother was born
I'm of the blood of serfs
The children with whom I have played
The men and women with whom I have eaten
Have masters over them
Been under the lash of masters
Though gentle had search of
Oh ro, freedom, freedom
Oh ro, freedom, freedom, oh ro
Oh ro, freedom, freedom
Oh ro, freedom, freedom, oh ro
The hands that have touched mine
The dear hands whose touch is so familiar to me
Have worn shameful manacles
Been bitten at the wrist by manacles
Grown hard with the manacles and taskbook of strange earls
I am flesh of the flesh of these lowly
I am bone of the bone
I who have never submitted
I that have a soul greater than the soul of my people's masters
I that have vision and prophecy and the gift of fiery speech
I that have spoken with God on the top of his holy hill
Oh ro, freedom, freedom
Oh ro, freedom, freedom, oh ro
Oh ro, freedom, freedom
Oh ro, freedom, freedom, oh ro
And because I have come of the people
I understand the people
I am sorrowful with their sorrow
I am hungry, hungry, hungry with their desires
My heart has been heavy, heavy with the grief of mothers
My eyes have been wet, wet with the tears of children
I've yearned with old and wistful men
And laughed and cursed with young men
Their shame is my shame
And I had redenned for it
Redenned, that they had served whilst others should be free
Redenned, they had gone in want while others had been full
Redenned, that they have walked in fear of the liars and their jailers
With their writs, their summonses and their handcuffs
Men mean and cruel
I could uphold stripes on my body
Rather than the shame of my people
Oh ro, freedom, freedom
Oh ro, freedom, freedom, oh ro
Oh ro, freedom, freedom
Oh ro, freedom, freedom, oh ro
Now I'll speak, be full of vision
And I'll speak to my people
And I'll speak of my people slain
To the masters of my people
And I'll say to my people
That you are holy
That you are a gost despite your chains
That they are greater than those who have held them
And stronger and purer
That they have a deed of courage and call in the name of their God
God, the unforgetting
The dear God who loves the people
For whom he died, naked, suffering, shame
And I say to my people's masters:
Beware!
Beware!
Beware of the thing that is coming
Beware of a risen of people
Who will taken from ye what ye would not give!
Did you think to conquer the people?
Or that law was stronger than life, or man's desire to be free?
We will try it out with ye
Ye that have harried and held
Ye that have bullied and blithed
Tyrants, hypocrites, liars!
Of a people who sorrow
That have no treasures but hope
No riches laid up
But a memory of an ancient glory
My mother, she bore me in bondage
In bondage my mother was born
I'm of the blood of serfs
The children with whom I have played
The men and women with whom I have eaten
Have masters over them
Been under the lash of masters
Though gentle had search of
Oh ro, freedom, freedom
Oh ro, freedom, freedom, oh ro
Oh ro, freedom, freedom
Oh ro, freedom, freedom, oh ro
The hands that have touched mine
The dear hands whose touch is so familiar to me
Have worn shameful manacles
Been bitten at the wrist by manacles
Grown hard with the manacles and taskbook of strange earls
I am flesh of the flesh of these lowly
I am bone of the bone
I who have never submitted
I that have a soul greater than the soul of my people's masters
I that have vision and prophecy and the gift of fiery speech
I that have spoken with God on the top of his holy hill
Oh ro, freedom, freedom
Oh ro, freedom, freedom, oh ro
Oh ro, freedom, freedom
Oh ro, freedom, freedom, oh ro
And because I have come of the people
I understand the people
I am sorrowful with their sorrow
I am hungry, hungry, hungry with their desires
My heart has been heavy, heavy with the grief of mothers
My eyes have been wet, wet with the tears of children
I've yearned with old and wistful men
And laughed and cursed with young men
Their shame is my shame
And I had redenned for it
Redenned, that they had served whilst others should be free
Redenned, they had gone in want while others had been full
Redenned, that they have walked in fear of the liars and their jailers
With their writs, their summonses and their handcuffs
Men mean and cruel
I could uphold stripes on my body
Rather than the shame of my people
Oh ro, freedom, freedom
Oh ro, freedom, freedom, oh ro
Oh ro, freedom, freedom
Oh ro, freedom, freedom, oh ro
Now I'll speak, be full of vision
And I'll speak to my people
And I'll speak of my people slain
To the masters of my people
And I'll say to my people
That you are holy
That you are a gost despite your chains
That they are greater than those who have held them
And stronger and purer
That they have a deed of courage and call in the name of their God
God, the unforgetting
The dear God who loves the people
For whom he died, naked, suffering, shame
And I say to my people's masters:
Beware!
Beware!
Beware of the thing that is coming
Beware of a risen of people
Who will taken from ye what ye would not give!
Did you think to conquer the people?
Or that law was stronger than life, or man's desire to be free?
We will try it out with ye
Ye that have harried and held
Ye that have bullied and blithed
Tyrants, hypocrites, liars!
