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On one fine but fatal morning in the early Eocene	A
Lo a brawny Bloke set out to dig a hole	B
First of men to put a puncture in the tertiary green	A
Was this early neolithic human mole	B
Gladsomely the toiler hefted his ungainly wooden spade	C
As he scarified the bosom of old earth	D
And our Progress forthwith started when his first spade thrust was made	C
While the cult of Work or Graft was given birth	D
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Oh he flung the clods about him with a gay and prideful jerk	E
Did this bright and early anthropoidal Bloke	F
With the crowd that gathered goggle eyed to watch him at his work	E
He would crack a pleasant prehistoric joke	F
And they gazed at him in wonder for the custom of the mob	G
When not occupied in inter tribal strife	H
Hitherto had been to eat and sleep and hunt and cheat and rob	G
Quite a simple and uncomplicated life	H
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	-
Wherefore being new and novel he was treated with respect	I
This inventor of the job of shifting sand	J
And with fresh killed meat and fruit and furs his cave the tribesmen decked	I
While his praises sounded high on ev'ry hand	J
And the chieftain bade his artists in crude pictures to inscribe	K
On the shin bone of a Dinosauromyth	D
'Lo the gods have sent a thing called Graft to bless this happy tribe	K
And a scheme of Public Works will start forthwith '	-
	-
	-
Ev'ry day from early dawn till dark the delver labored on	L
Till the tribesmen grew accustomed to the sight	M
And the hunters on their way to slay the mud fat mastodon	N
Would delay to say he wasn't doing right	M
And the loafers from the Lower Caves who lived by stealing meat	O
All the day around the contract used to lurk	E
And when'er he paused to wipe his brow or took time off to eat	O
They would yell at him in chorus 'Aw git work '	-
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Fat and lazy fur skin traders wealthy men of such a size	P
That it took five hides to make them each a vest	Q
On their way to cheat their neighbors paused awhile to criticise	P
Calling 'Loafer ' ev'ry time he stopped to rest	Q
They no longer stocked his larder with the trophies of the chase	P
Or the neolithic substitute for beer	R
For the chief said 'He's a worker we must keep him in his place '	-
And the bloated fur skin traders cried 'Hear hear '	-
	-
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And he soon became the scapegoat and the butt of all the tribe	K
And he dwelt within the smallest meanest cave	S
While the rich and idle troglodytes were readiest to gibe	K
Till they worried him into an early grave	S
Then the minstrel And I wot he was a wise prophetic bard	T
And an anthropoid philosopher of note	U
Took another mammoth shin bone and scatched it with his shard	T
In his picture script and this is what he wrote	U
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	-
'Here lies the simple silly coot who first discovered Toil	V
Him who started progress onward on her way	W
Though he didn't get much fun from it he moved some tons of soil	V
But 'tis said he never fairly eanred his pay	W
Lo this thing called Work is blessed for it shifts a lot of sand	J
And this progress eases him who lives by tricks	P
But the Bloke who lumps the Bundle down through ev'ry age and land	J
Shall be paid for harder work with harder kicks '	-
	-
	-
Now that Paleolithic prophet on some sandstone stratum lies With his shin bones of the Dinosauromyth	D
But the Bloke who shoves the shovel still his thankless calling plies	P
And his name is Michael Burke or Peter Smith	D
In the highway doth he labor in the searching public gaze	P
And he dare not pause his aching back to rest	Q
Lest he cause a howl of protest from the trader of these days	P
With the large gold chain across his convex chest	Q
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Lest he cause a howl of protest from 'Pro Bono Publico '	-
And lest 'Constant Reader' cry his shame aloud	X
He must keep his shovel moving and he moves it all too slow	Y
For the critics in the great White handed crowd	X
Till they get a patent navvy with a dynamo for head	Z
Or a petrol tank for stomach take my word	A2
He'll be ever up against it who shifts sand to earn his bread	Z
And the howling of the traders will be heard	A2

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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