When The Wires Are Underground

              When November comes around,

And the wires are underground,

Will we think that millennium has come to Boston quite;

              For it’s better they should be

              Underground than some of we,

On whom they fall promiscuously and put us out of sight.

              When November breezes blow,

              And the wires are down below,

Can we march with banners flying twice the height we did before;

              And along the windy streets,

When the cops are off their beats,

Can the boys fly kites and clamber like they did in days of yore.

               When the wires are underfoot,

              Where we’re going to have them put;

No more they’ll spark and sputter like a streak of light’ning round,

              And we will not worry so,

              When our wives a shopping go,

Because there’s naught to shock them when the wires are underground.

April 16, ‘94

Pub. in B. Courier

April 22, 1894

 https://books.google.com/books?id=WUpEAQAAIAAJ&pg=PA74&lpg=PA74&dq=Boston+wires+underground+1894&source=bl&ots=teWiWb3s56&sig=CIM2nwq27f_t31KIAgPQhyMCIgo&hl=en&sa=X&ei=YNYrVdfmF_TLsATL6YCQCg&ved=0CCYQ6AEwAg#v=onepage&q=Boston%20wires%20underground%201894&f=false