COAL.

Dark jewel from the zone of Erebus!

What son of Dis first dragged thee from thy lair

To be a twofold benison to us

Poor mortals shivering in the upper air

When Phoebus nose-dives in his solar bus

Beneath the waves and goes to shine elsewhere?

Or if some monstrous progeny of Tellus

Found thou wast Power and made the high gods jealous

I do not know (I've lost my Lemprière),

Nor if the fate that thereupon befell us

Was for each load of coal two loads of care;

Yet oft I wonder if beyond the Styx

The price of thee is three pounds ten and six.

Sun worshipper am I, and serve the gods

Of stream and meadow and the flowery lea,

Of winding woodways where the loosestrife nods

In summer and in spring the anemone,

And thymy sheep-paths where the ploughboy plods

Home to his frugal but sufficient tea.

Not for a crown, grim coal, would I pursue thee

In subterranean passages and hew thee

Mid poisonous fumes and draughts of tepid tea.

Yet were I all undone should I eschew thee;

Someone, in short, must dig thee up for me;

And, if he deems it worth a pound a day,

Well, who am I to say the fellow nay?

The sailor heaves on Biscay's restless bay;

His breeks are tarry but his heart is kind;

The farmer grouses all the livelong day

Howe'er with untaxed oof his jeans are lined;

The shop-assistant works for paltry pay,

Though of all manners his are most refined;

But all of them can quaff the undefiled

Sweet air of heaven and gaze with thankful eyelid

On azure skies and feel the unfettered wind,

Or in the park on Sunday, in a high lid,

Or through the equinoctials blowing blind,

Or at cold milking-time when dawns are red

And birds awake and I remain in bed.

Not so the miner! Though his private life

Is blameless and his soul is pure and brave;

Although he gives his wages to his wife

And spanks his children when they don't behave;

Though rather than incur industrial strife

He takes the cash and lets the Bolshy rave,

He is condemned to toil in mines and galleries,

Nourished inside with insufficient calories,

A sordid mineral's uncomplaining slave,

Till the rheumatics get him and his pallor is

So marked he hardly dares to wash and shave.

And shall I grudge the man sufficient pelf

For toil I'd rather die than do myself?

Ah, there's the rub! I fain would see him blest

With ample quarters and sufficient food,

A spacious close wherein to take his rest,

Hats for his wife and bootlets for his brood.

But, now the Powers have granted his request,

Too well I know what course will be pursued

By certain merchants who "enjoy" my custom:

They'll put the price of coal up, you can trust 'em,

Till I by want am utterly oppressed

And my finances, howso I adjust 'em,

To my complete insolvency attest.

Five pounds a ton they'll charge—I know their game—

Saying, "Of course the miner is to blame."

Nay, let me clasp the honest fellow's hand,

Saying, "O miner, here is one who shares

Your just desire to make this lovely land

A fit abode for heroes and their heirs

By ousting Plunder's profiteering band,

Who take the cash and leave us all the cares.

Oh, if we twain together might conspire,

Would we not grasp them by the scruff and fire

Coal merchants, barons, dukes and millionaires,

And run the business to our hearts' desire,

Paying no dividends on watered shares;

Blessing State ownership and State control,

You for high wages, I for cheaper coal."

ALGOL.