Iron Ore Miner

He grubbed each day within a sunless mine, Deep in the earth, where lay the iron ore; Came out, ore-stained, and with an aching spine He hurried home to sleep and dream once more.

On Sunday he would sit in his front yard, His stiff white shirt worn with uneasy smile. Forgotten now, his week of labor hard, As gratefully he owned sunshine a while.

He planned that some day after he retired, He would relax in some warm, sunny clime. Alas, too soon, the poor old man expired, Went underground -- to stay there for all time.