The Fellow-Labourers by Isaac Williams

My little mole, two callings have we two,
One master: where old earth is hardest bound,
And shrub stretching his limbs with much ado,
There art thou, with thy mattock, and thy hoe,
And many finger’d shovel; yet no sound
Speaks of thy whereabout, nor heard nor found
Save in thy mountain monuments; kind to you,
Should we be, fellow-labourers of the ground.
My little miner with the velvet coat,
We are mid things we deem not, did’st e’er note
Blue sky, and flower, and field, or the sweet throat
Of birds around thee? to our work again,
Round us too tents are spread unseen by men,
And companies too bright for human ken.

From: Williams, Isaac, Thoughts in Past Years, 1838, John Henry Parker: London, p. 34.

Date: 1838

By: Isaac Williams (1802-1865)


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