They send you out in heat-waves
with theodolite and chain.

You carry on in blizzards
and driving moorland rain. 

With clino and plane-table
you find where contours go.

Try looking for a contour
under a foot of Yorkshire snow!

So at the gates of Heaven to St. Peter
you will tell “I’m an Apprentice,
Sir, from Pennypotand
I’ve served my time in Hell.”