Rembrandt alone could paint this mammoth shed Filled with weird hissing like some hydra's lair, Where thick smoke eddies through the sunless air And webs of steel curve upward overhead. These floors run burning oils. These fires are fed From pits of Tartarus. Against the glare High-shouldered, coal-black gryphons crouch and stare. Their heavy panting wakes a sense of dread. Yet stranger far, the human ants in hordes Who swarm like imps in some infernal masque, Seeming to guide each awful shape of power As th' elemental spirits' potent lords, -- Yet only toiling at their common task, Bound by a schedule to the clamoring hour! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFFIRMATION by LOUIS UNTERMEYER PRIMROSE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS PSALM 139 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE NOBLEMAN AND THE PENSIONER by GOTTLIEB KONRAD PFEFFEL THE WIDOW; SAPPHICS by ROBERT SOUTHEY THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A BLACKBIRD by WALLACE STEVENS |