Gently lay your stone hammer down
And walk the gorse and hickories,
Over scratched moraines.
Tuck down on Babson’s Sunset Rock,
Westward the sun settles
Feel the light of new horizons.
Hither and there, pounded words,
A Scatter of blunted chisels.
Up from the quarry floor
A new tool boy climb ups
His ladder to the blacksmith shop.
Gently lay your stone hammer down.