WE are the slaves of the timber land — Me and the black and bay. We work by the day for a pittance of pay, Pork for the man and the horses' hay! Slaves! — I say? — Of the skid and the sleigh? — 'T was the echoed word Of the world you heard, — For the nags and me Are the wind and the tree — And none so free! We're czars of the lumbering band! We sound for the sun his reveille, With the clang of the logging-chain, And the biting of the frost disdain! We warm to the work and won't complain. Ours the woods of Maine! (Shiver! ye fields of cane!) Hills of snow and a hammering bell! Four thousand scale as hard as hell! Get up, Jack! — Together, Nell! Break your tugs! Shake your lugs! — Your frozen steam Is a passing dream When you sleep in the straw with me! The slaves are rolling the logs of towns! — Give'em the lot they've drawn! The blood and brawn, and the liquor of dawn Are enough for us! We're up and gone! — A ten-league run Is a race with the sun! The horses' keep, And a cave for sleep — (Better a bear than a shivering sheep) Meat and bread, And a blanket-bed — And the prayers for more we leave to clowns! To the hags of storm my song is hurled! My poem's the creak of the hickory rack! The lashes' crack, in the woods rung back, Is a fire in the veins of the bay and black! How they dance, And heave and prance! O, wild and free, We're comrades three — Born of the wind and wave! Little to lose or save — What of the grave! — @3The boss of care is the king of the world!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE MOUNTAIN FASTNESS by HAYDEN CARRUTH SHADOW-CASTING by JAMES GALVIN CURTAIN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON PRIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE AUDACIOUS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WORDS INTO WORDS WON'T GO by CLARENCE MAJOR DOMESDAY BOOK: DR. TRACE TO THE CORONER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |