Here come the line-gang pioneering by.
They throw a forest down less cut than broken.
They plant dead trees for living, and the dead
They string together with a living thread.
They string an instrument against the sky.
Wherein words whether beaten out or spoken
will run as hushed as when they were a thought.
But in no hush they string it: they go past
With shouts afar to pull the cable taut,
To hold it hard until they make it fast,
To ease away they have it. With a laugh,
An oath of towns that set the wild at naught
They bring the telephone and telegraph.
Submitted by Emily Ezust
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:01:28
Line count: 13
Word count: 107
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- Emily Ezust
Browse imslp.org (Petrucci Music Library) for Lieder or choral works