Caliban in the coal mines

God, we don't like to complain, 
We know that the mine is no lark,
But-there's the pools from the rain;
 But-there's the cold and the dark.
God, You don't know what it is
 You, in Your well-lighted sky
 Watching the meteors whizz;
 Warm, with the sun always by.
God, if You had but the moon
 Stuck in Your cap for a lamp,
Even You'd tire of it soon,
 Down in the dark and the damp.
 Nothing but blackness above 
And nothing that moves but the cars. . .
God, if You wish for our love,
 Fling us a handful of stars!

Louis Untermeyer