d hew thee
Mid poisonous fumes and draughts of tepid tea.
Yet were I all undone should I eschew thee;
Someone, in short, must dig thee up for me;
And, if he deems it worth a pound a day,
Well, who am I to say the fellow nay?

The sailor heaves on Biscay's restless bay;
His breeks are tarry but his heart is kind;
The farmer grouses all the livelong day
Howe'er with untaxed oof his jeans are lined;
The shop-assistant works for paltry pay,
Though of all manners his are most refined;
But all of them can quaff the undefiled
Sweet air of heaven and gaze with thankful eyelid
On azure skies and feel the unfettered wind,
Or in the park on Sunday, in a high lid,
Or through the equinoctials blowing blind,
Or at cold milking-time when dawns are red
And birds awake and I remain in bed.

Not so the miner! Though his private life
Is blameless and his soul is pure and brave;
Although he gives his wages to his wife
And spanks his children when they don't behave;
Though rather than incur industrial strife
He takes the cash and lets the Bolshy rave,
He is condemned to toil in mines and galleries,
Nourished inside with insufficient calories,
A sordid mineral's uncomplaining slave,
Till the rheumatics get him and his pallor is
So marked he hardly dares to wash and shave.
And shall I grudge the man sufficient pelf
For toil I'd rather die than do myself?

Ah, there's the rub! I fain would see him blest
With ample quarters and sufficient food,
A spacious close wherein to take his rest,
Hats for his wife and bootlets for his brood.
But, now the Powers have granted his request,
Too well I know what course will be pursued
By certain merchants who "enjoy" my custom:
They'll put the price of coal up, you can trust 'em,
Till I by want am utterly oppressed
And my finances, howso I adjust 'em,
To my complete insolvency attest.
Five pounds a ton they'll charge--I know their game--
Saying, "Of course the miner is to blame."

Nay, let me clasp the honest fellow's hand,
Saying, "O miner, here is one who shares
Your just desire to make this lovely land
A fit abode for heroes and their heirs
By ousting Plunder's profiteering band,
Who take the cash and leave us all the cares.
Oh, if we twain together might conspire,
Would we not grasp them by the scruff and fire
Coal merchants, barons, dukes