Classic Poem

After the dreadful Flood was past,
And Mankind did abound,
A Tower they built, for fear the earth
Should once again be drowned,

And that they to posterity
Might leave a lasting name.
The Almighty saw it and was much
Displeasèd with the same.

And to prevent this vain attempt,
Their language did confound
That what they to each other speak
Was but an empty sound.

So that one cries, ‘Come bring me here
A trowel quickly, quick’;
But he a hammer reaches him.
One he cries ‘Hew this brick’;

Instead of which he busy is
To cleave in two a tree.
‘Make fast this rope,’ another bids;
And then they let it flee.

One loudly calls for planks and boards,
Another mortar lacks;
But to the first a stone they bring,
And to the last an axe.

One in great haste does nails require,
And him a spade they give.
Another for a saw doth ask,
And him they bring a sieve.

Thus being crossly crossed they fret
And vex but all in vain;
For what one with much pains hath made
Another spoils again.

This makes them leave their work undone,
And like mad men, or fools,
They scatter all their stuff abroad,
And tumble down their tools.