THE SONG OF STEAM George W. Cutter HARNESS me down with your iron bands, Be sure of your curb and rein, For I scorn the strength of your puny hands As the tempest scorns a chain. How I laughed as I lay concealed from sight At the childish boast of human might, When I saw an army upon the land, Creeping along, a snail-like band, Or waiting the wayward breeze; When I marked the peasant faintly reel, With the toil that he daily bore, As he feebly turned the tardy wheel, Or tugged at the weary oar; When I measured the panting courser's speed, The flight of the carrier-dove, I could but think how the world would feel, Ha ha ha! they found me at last; And I rushed to my throne with a thunderblast, And laughed in my iron strength. Where now my fiery armies range, Hurrah! hurrah! the waters o'er Time, space, have yielded to my power, The rivers the sun hath earliest blest, The ocean pales wherever I sweep, Cower, trembling, at my voice. In the darksome depths of the fathomless mine My tireless arm doth play, Where the rocks ne'er saw the sun's decline, I bring earth's glittering jewels up And I make the fountain's granite cup I blow the bellows, I forge the steel, In all the shops of trade; I hammer the ore, and turn the wheel Where my arms of strength are made; I manage the furnace, the mill, the mint; I carry, I spin, I weave; And all my doings I put in print On every Saturday eve. I've no muscles to weary, no brains to decay, No bones to be "laid on the shelf And soon I intend you may "go and play," While I manage the world by myself. But harness me down with your iron bands, Be sure of your curb and rein, For I scorn the strength of your puny hands As the tempest scorns a chain. Look up and not down; look out and not in; look forward and not back; lend a hand.-E. E. HALE. |