THE MINER

Grimy, and caked with dust of coal he stands, Grasping his pick within his mighty hands; The arbiter of destiny and fate, Greater by far than king or potentate. Shops may not run except at his behest, At forge and blast his strength is manifest. The rolls that rumble and the shears that scream And all the million miracles of steam Depend on him for fuel that will turn The wheels that urge them and the belts that churn. Guns that will shatter fortresses of steel, Ships that will plow the waves on steady keel Bearing munitions for an army’s need Must wait the miner’s orders and take heed That he who toils within the coal mine’s murk Gives them the coal with which they do their work. Behind the men who battle in the trench There stand the workmen at the lathe and bench, But back of them and master of them all The miner stands and holds the world in thrall. Not soon again shall any man forget How much the world is in the miner’s debt, For we shall read upon fame’s honor roll “He won the war—his labor gave us coal!”