The Song of Steam


| November/December 1955


One of our subscribers sent us this poem and there is no name to it Will the sender please enlighten us? Ed.

Harness me down with your iron bands
Be sure of your curb and rein;
For I scorn the power of your puny
hands
As the tempest scorns a chain!

How I laughed as I lay concealed
from sight
For many a countless hour,
At the childish boast of human might
And the pride of human power!

When I saw an army upon the land
A navy upon the seas
Creeping along, a snaillike band
Or waiting the wayward breeze;



When I marked the peasant fairly reel
With the toil which he faintly bore
As he feebly turned the tardy wheel
Or tugged at the weary oar;

When I measured the panting coursers speed
As they bore the law a king decreed
Or the lines of impatient love
I could not but think how the world
would feel