Who gives a thought about the fireflies
Short lives of moving light
Perform their quiet flight
The stars of starless nights

Who gives a thought about the nematodes
There isn't time these days
For microscopic worms
Or for unstudied germs
Of no commercial worth

And who gives a thought about the labourers
The ones who dig and hoe
Who weld and reap and sow
Who braid and cut and grind
Who split and join and wind
Who reach and teach and hack
And bring the children back
To serve the self-made man