Twenty men stand watching the muckers. Stabbing the sides of the ditch Where clay gleams yellow, Driving the blades of their shovels Deeper and deeper for the new gas mains, Wiping sweat off their faces With red bandanas. The muckers work on...pausing...to pull Their boots out of suckholes where they slosh. Of the twenty looking on Ten murmur, "O, it's a hell of a job," Ten others, "Jesus, I wish I had the job." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ELEGY UPON THE DEATH OF DOCTOR DONNE, DEAN OF PAUL'S by THOMAS CAREW SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 14. OVER THE COFFIN by THOMAS HARDY STONEWALL JACKSON; MORTALLY WOUNDED AT CHANCELLORSVILLE by HERMAN MELVILLE THE SOUL'S DEFIANCE by LAVINIA STONE STODDARD NOCTURNE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH NOONTIDE REST by ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |