Go, mould and burn the clay to brick
With all the skill of ages;
It took the shovel and the pick
Before it took the sages.
But leaving that to honor’s past
For things which men applaud,
Who is it makes the pile so vast,
An edifice to rise and last?
The man who bears the hod.
The potter and the architect
May shape and plan the temple,
The master-builders may erect,
Ennoble or assemble;
But leaving that to future fame
For things we rarely laud,
Who is it carries up the frame
On shoulders called in lieu of name
The man who bears the hod?
The dreamer and the statesman may
Inspirèd be with genius,
And in the oven put the clay
That rears renown between us;
But who must heap the bricks they mould
On backs and bases broad,
Toil up the scaffolds and uphold
The towers growing high and bold?
The man who bears the hod.