I met a man without a spade,
“I’m going a-digging,” that’s what he said.
I met one other without a plough,
“Am going a-tilling,” that’s what he said.

To dig and scoop without a spade?
To till and sow without a plough?
My lips curled to scorn and cry
Silly mortals and vain attempts!

Just then I saw those four bright eyes,
I saw four hands resolved to grip,
I saw therein that attitude
That waits for neither spade nor plough.