Selected Poetry.

Marlborough Express, Volume IV, Issue 202, 6 November 1869, Page 7

Selected Poetry.

THE SOUNDS OF LABOUR. I love the sound of the woodman’s axe As it falls on the sturdy oak ; And the sound of the flail on the threshing-floor. Ere the the morning has fairly broke ; The cheerful smack of the teamster’s whip, By the heavily laden wain ; And the mingled sounds from the harvest field, As I pass down the old green lane. For they tell how thought and toil combined Can aid creation’s plan. And multiply the wondrous gifts The soil bestows on man. I love the clack of the merry mill-wheel. The sound of the hammer’s fall ; The ring of the shivering trowel, trouck By the hand that rears the wall ; The dull dead sound of the pavor’s blow, The rush of the passing train, And the sailor’s cry of “ Yo, heave, ho ! ” Coming o’er the surging main. For they tell how thought and toil combined Can aid creation’s plan, And multiply the wondrous gifts The soil bestows on man. I love the sturdy collier’s cry, The roar of the furnace strong ; The click of type on the printer’s stick, And the shouts of the toiling throng ; The sound of the perilous grinder’s stone. The jack of the knitter’s frame, The spinning lathe, and the smelter’s blast, With its burning sheet of flame. For they tell how thought and toil combined Can aid creation’s plan, And multiply the wondrous gifts The soil bestows on man.