40 STEAM. 



The barren curse from every pathless place 

 Where vitues have not yet atoned for crimes. 



He loves the thunder of machinery ! 

 It is beneficent thunder, though, at times, 



Like Heaven's red bolt it lightens fatally. 



Poor blind old man ! what would he give to see 

 This bloodless Waterloo ! this hell of wheels ! 



This dreadful speed, that seems to sleep and snore, 

 And dream of earthquake ! In his brain he feels 



The mighty arm of mist, that shakes the shore 



Along the throng'd canal in ceaseless roar 

 Urging the heavy forge, the clanking mill, 



The rapid tilt, and screaming, sparkling stone 

 Is this the spot were stoop'd the ash-crown'd hill 



To meet the vale, when bee-lov'd banks, o'ergrown 



With broom and woodbine, heard the cushat lone 

 Coo for her absent love? Oh, ne'er anain 



Shall Andrew pluck the freckled foxglove here ! 

 How like a monster, with a league-long mane, 



Or Titan's rocket, in its high career, 



Towers the dense smoke! The falcon, wheeling near, 

 Turns, and the angry crow seeks purer skies. 

 At first, with lifted hands in mute surprise, 



Old Andrew listens to the mingled sound 

 Of hammer, roll, and wheel. UN sightless eyes 



Brighten with generous pride, that man hath found 



Redemption from the manacles which bound - 

 His powers for many an a^e. A poor man's boy 



Constructed these grand works! Lo, like the sun, 

 Shines knowledge rrow on all ! He thinks, \\ithjoy, 



Of that futurity which is begun 



Of that great victory which shall be won 

 By Truth o'er Falsehood ; and already feels 



Earth shaken by the conflict. But a low 

 Deep sigh escapes him, sadness o'er him steals, 



Shading his noble heart with selfish woe; 



Yes, envy clouds his melancholy brow. 

 What I shall the good old times in aught of good 



Yield to these days of cant and parish-pay, 

 The sister-growth of twenty years of blood ? 



His ancient fume, he feels, is past away ; 



He is no more the wonder of his day 



The far-praised, self-taught, matchless engineer ! 



G. P. HEARDF.R, PLYMOUTH. 



