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BUILDERS OF HIGHWAYS
Conceived by a poet who believed[1]
Dreams should be dreamed and then achieved.

And he bored him a tunnel-rock and boulder,
Out of a mountain's granite shoulder,
Chiseled his windows-arching wide,
Glimpsing the sky and the rolling tide;
Throwing his graceful spans across
Dripping ravines of fern and moss;
Charming the serpent up and down
Till it lazily coiled on the lofty crown,
Goal of each traveller who would be
Thrilled with unspeakable ecstacy.

Oh climb in your chariots pink and green,
Rattletrap Lizzie and limousine,
Throbbing triumphantly toward the sky,
(There's never a grade but you take on high)
Honking and honking, round on round,
Honking again till the cliffs resound,
Looping at last the Crown Point top-
And there you stop!
Where winds from the North, East, West and South
Tumble their clouds in the chasm's mouth-
Curtains of mist and far-off thunder-
And somehow you look and look and wonder

[15]

  1. Reference to Samuel Lancaster, Portland, Oregon.