ON FIRST LOOKING INTO A SUBWAY EXCAVATION

Much have I travelled, a commuter bold,

And many goodly excavations seen;

Round many miles of planking have I been

Which wops in fealty to contractors hold.

Oft of one wide expanse had I been told

Where dynamite had swept the traffic clean,

And every passer-by must duck his bean

Or flying rocks would lay him stiff and cold.

As I was crossing Broadway, with surprise

I held my breath and improvised a prayer:

I saw the solid street before me rise

And men and trolleys leap into the air.

I gazed into the pit with doubtful eyes,

Silent upon a peak in Herald Square.