They tow a boat and upstream wade
Between two shores alive with trade.
Under the heat pants buffalo.
O think what pain it is to tow!
The water’s muddy and can not
Be drunk: thick silt fills half the pot.
When tow-men sing their song’s refrain.
With broken heart, tears fall like rain.
Ten thousand quarry-men would groan
To haul to riverside rough stone.
If rocky mountains could have ears,
Would they not melt into sad tears?