Robbed of a craft unfairly rewarded,
spurred to revolt by collective rage,
croppers arise from idyllic scenery,
organize to smash the latest machinery,
then crushed by tactics the Crown will wage,
tortured and tried, hanged or transported.

On time next morning the hands arrive
and hump to the work with finger stumps,
raising output with elbows and knuckles,
counting themselves plucky and lucky to be alive.

But mad history marks selective abuse,
those loyal lumps largely forgotten,
worn away like the woolens and cotton
they suffered and died to produce,

while Nedd, that mythical labor reactionary,
is still listed in the English dictionary.

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John Talbot Ross