These manual jobs I always shun;
In the bright realm of Poesy
My thrilling daily task is done.
My songs are wild with beauty. This is one.
Yet has the miner, not the bard,
A life that runs in pleasant ways;
His labour may be pretty hard,
But, when compared with mine, it pays.
Scant the reward of my exhausting days.
I bear no grudge. I don't object