Aloft amidst the vapors
Of an early morning dew
Over old Manhattan Island
Comes the sunlight's golden hue.
Around me mammoth buildings.
Lift their peaks up to the sky
Far below the sea gulls
Seeking food, they swiftly fly.
Beneath me busy millions
Driven on by Destiny
Ride upon the wheels of Progress
To the call of Industry.
And upon this noble structure
Whereon whose heights I stand
Tolls three thousand odd mechanics
Skillful both of brain and hand.
From the day they sunk the caisons
To the day they laid the roof
They have built it forty stories
Cold, heat, fool, and fire proof.
And each one a Union member
Being paid the wage he sought
Have made it one of many
Of the monuments they've wrought.
M. P. Kearin
December 1914
The Journal of Electrical Workers and Operators, 1915
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