YOU have no ene­mies, you say?

YOU have no ene­mies, you say?
Alas! my friend, the boast is poor; 

He who has min­gled in the fray
Of duty, that the brave endure, 

Must have made foes! If you have none,
Small is the work that you have done. 

You’ve hit no trai­tor on the hip,
You’ve dashed no cup from per­jured lip, 

You’ve nev­er turned the wrong to right,
You’ve been a cow­ard in the fight.

Charles Mack­ay, (Eng­lish Chartist poet, 1814–1889)

The Cry for Jus­tice: An Anthol­o­gy of the Lit­er­a­ture of Social Protest, 1915 The Writ­ings of Philoso­phers, Poets, Nov­el­ists, Social Reform­ers, and Oth­ers Who Have Voiced the Strug­gle Against Social Injus­tice, Select­ed from Twen­ty-Five Lan­guages, Cov­er­ing a Peri­od of Five Thou­sand Years, Upton Sin­clair, ed. (1878–1968)