Here come the line-gang pioneering by. They throw a forest down less cut than broken. They plant dead trees for living, and the dead They string together with a living thread. They string an instrument against the sky Wherein words whether beaten out or spoken Will run as hushed as when they were a thought. But in no hush they string it: they go past With shouts afar to pull the cable taut, To hold it hard until they make it fast, To ease away -- they have it. With a laugh, An oath of towns that set the wild at naught They bring the telephone and telegraph. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COCK AND THE BULL by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY ROBINSON CRUSOE ['S STORY, OR ISLAND] by CHARLES EDWARD CARRYL EPITAPH: FOR A LADY I KNOW by COUNTEE CULLEN THE SCHRECKHORN by THOMAS HARDY CLOTHES DO BUT CHEAT AND COZEN US by ROBERT HERRICK TO CHLOE; AN APOLOGY FOR GOING INTO THE COUNTRY by JOHN WOLCOTT |