The Invisible Workmen
By Rob Morris
And who are these, like shadows thin,
Heaving vast hammers without din,
Splitting in fragments huge the ledge
Noiseless, with crowbar and with wedge,
In silence plying chisel's edge!
They bear the marks of steel and fire
Upon each brow the impress dire
Of sin, and shame, and penalty,
As driven from the upper sky,
And doomed in God's rebuke to sigh.
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