Here Come The Line-Gang Pioneering By, They Throw A Forest Down Less Cut Than Broken. They Plant Dead Trees For Living, And The Dead They String Together With A Living Thread. They String An Instrument Against The Sky Wherein Words Whether Beaten Out Or Spoken Will Run As Hushed As When They Were A Thought But In No Hush They String It: They Go Past With Shouts Afar To Pull The Cable Taught, To Hold It Hard Until They Make It Fast, To Ease Away, They Have It. With A Laugh, An Oath Of Towns That Set The Wild At Naught They Bring The Telephone And Telegraph.