Portrait of a Machine
What nudity as beautiful as this
Obedient monster purring at its toil;
Those iron muscles dripping oil,
And the sure-finger rods that never miss?
This long and shinning flank of metal is
Magic that greasy labour cannot spoil;
While this vast engine that could rend the soil
Conceals its fury with a gental hiss.
It does not vent its loathing, it does not turn
Upon its makers with destroying hate.
It bears a deeper malice; lives to earn
Its master's bread and laughs to see this great
Lord of the earth, who rules but cannot learn,
Become a slave of what his slaves create.
Louise Untermeyer
Last edited by Robin400; 22nd Jan 2014 at 14:53.