Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/338
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THE SONG OF STEAM.
When I marked the peasant faintly reel
With the toil which he daily bore,
As he feebly turned at the tardy wheel,
Or tugged at the weary oar;
With the toil which he daily bore,
As he feebly turned at the tardy wheel,
Or tugged at the weary oar;
When I measured the panting courser's speed,
The flight of the carrier dove,
As they bore the law a king decreed,
Or the lines of impatient love;
I could not but think how the world would feel,
As these were outstripped afar,
When I should be bound to the rushing keel,
Or chained to the flying car.
The flight of the carrier dove,
As they bore the law a king decreed,
Or the lines of impatient love;
I could not but think how the world would feel,
As these were outstripped afar,
When I should be bound to the rushing keel,
Or chained to the flying car.
Ha! ha! ha! they found me at last;
They invited me forth at length,
And I rushed to my throne with thunder blast,
And laughed in my iron strength.
Oh, then ye saw a wondrous change,
On the earth and ocean wide,
Where now my fiery armies range,
Nor wait for wind or tide.
They invited me forth at length,
And I rushed to my throne with thunder blast,
And laughed in my iron strength.
Oh, then ye saw a wondrous change,
On the earth and ocean wide,
Where now my fiery armies range,
Nor wait for wind or tide.
Hurrah! hurrah! the waters o'er
The mountains steep decline;
Time—space—have yielded to my power—
The world—the world is mine!
The rivers, the sun, hath earliest blest,
Or those where his beams decline,
The giant streams of the queenly west,
Or the orient floods divine.
The mountains steep decline;
Time—space—have yielded to my power—
The world—the world is mine!
The rivers, the sun, hath earliest blest,
Or those where his beams decline,
The giant streams of the queenly west,
Or the orient floods divine.
The ocean pales, where e'er I sweep,
To hear my strength rejoice;
And the monsters of the briny deep,
Come trembling at my voice,
I carry the wealth and the lord of earth;
The thoughts of the god-like mind;
The wind lags after my flying forth,
The lightning is left behind.
To hear my strength rejoice;
And the monsters of the briny deep,
Come trembling at my voice,
I carry the wealth and the lord of earth;
The thoughts of the god-like mind;
The wind lags after my flying forth,
The lightning is left behind.
In the darksome depths of the fathomless mine
My tireless arm does play,
Where the rocks never saw the sun decline
Or the dawn of the glorious day.
My tireless arm does play,
Where the rocks never saw the sun decline
Or the dawn of the glorious day.