We're low we're low mere rabble, we know
But, at our plastic power
The mould at the lording's feet will grow
Into palace and church and tower
Then prostrate fall in the rich man's hall
And cringe at the rich man's door
We're not too low to build the wall
But too low to tread the floor
Down, down we go we're so very low
To the hell of the deep sunk mines
But we gather the proudest gems that glow
When the crown of a despot shines
And whenever he lacks upon our backs
Fresh loads he designs to lay
We're far too low to vote the tax
But not too low to pay
We're low we're low we're very very low
Yet from our fingers glide
The silken flow and the robes that glow
Round the limbs of the sons of pride
And what we get and what we give
We know, and we know our share
We're not too low the cloth to weave
But too low the cloth to wear