Ye millions that so keenly feel
The pressure of the times,
To you I earnestly appeal,
Then listen to my rhymes,
In vain you labour night and day,
The owners of the soil,
By Corn Laws takes the bread away,
That should reward your toil.
Then open ev’ry British port,
And let the poor be fed,
No longer see your children starve,
And die through want of bread.

The haughty possess the land,
And wield oppression’s rod,
In spite of that divine command,
Found in the word of God.
The Corn Laws petrify their hearts,
And make the nation groan,
For when the people cry for bread,
They only get a stone.
Then open, &c.

Down, down, with the starvation laws
And no more be beguiled,
Cheap bread must surely be the cause
Of woman, man, and child;
All property is insecure,
And insecure must be,
Till they our plundered rights restore,
And make the Corn Trade free.
Then open, &c.

The Corn Laws are the greatest scourge
That has been since the flood,
Enacted since the time of George,
Whose reign was that of blood!
But we have now a Queen beloved,
Oh! let it not be said,
That she can see and hear unmoved,
Her people cry for bread.
Then open, &c.