Men and Mines
The lives of men resemble mines
In ways most manifold,
Some carry silver, some are lead,
While others are pure gold.
The “cradle” comes in early life,
With many a “pinch” and knock,
While tender “veins” and sinews grow
As hard and firm as rock.
Then hard times bring us to “bedrock”
And “faults” creep in apace,
We live and love and oftimes find
Our passion is but “base.”
And all through life “assessment work”
Eats us our scanty hoard,
With “grubstakes” few and far between
An awful “pinch” for board.
The “apex” in one’s life is reached
On a mighty high grade “ledge,”
Which opens to poor “gash vein”
And “peters” like a wedge.
We “drift” along the sands of time,
Or “cross-cut,” “sink,” or “stope,”
Until we land upon the “dump,”
Bereft of even hope.
And when the final “clean-up” comes
May each one’s life “assay”
In values high in manly deeds,
Upon the Judgment Day.
--W. J. L.M
