The Rock-Breaker
Pausing he leans upon his sledge, and looks—
A labor-blasted toiler;
So have I seen, on Shasta’s top, a pine
Stand silent on a cliff,
Stript of its glory of green leaves and boughs,
Its great trunk split by fire,
Its gray bark blackened by the thunder-smoke,
Its life a sacrifice
To some blind purpose of the destinies.