This song of labor is by Caroline A. Lord:
They are working, beneath the sun,
In its red-hot, blinding glare,
In the dust from the toiling teams,
In the noise of the thoroughfare
See them swing and bend, far down to the end
With the rhythm of the strokes they bear.
The cords of the sinewy arms
Stand out like the cable’s twist;
No blow shall miss and no stroke shall fail
From the grasp of the brawny fist,
As the shoulder swings when the pickax rings
And the hand springs firm from the wrist.
Let the feet of the dainty shod
Pass by on the other side,
Where the youth of the slender back and limb
Stands watching--the listless-eyed;
While with sweat and with pain and the long day’s strain
These toil--and are satisfied.
(1745)
=Labor, A Hero of=--See ENERGY INDOMITABLE.