Portrait of a Machine: Difference between revisions
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(Created page with "<meta author="Untermeyer, Louis" year_of_publication="1922" genre="Poetry" publisher="New York: Hartcourt, Brace and Company" journal="American Poetry" page_range="114" /> <annotations> == Portrait of a Machine == <paragraph keywords="anthropomorphism, engine, personification, metaphor, sound"> <poem> What nudity is beautiful as this Obedient monster purring at its toil; These naked iron muscles dripping oil And the sure-fingered rods that never miss. This lo...") |
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year_of_publication="1922" | year_of_publication="1922" | ||
genre="Poetry" | genre="Poetry" | ||
publisher=" | publisher="Hartcourt, Brace and Company" | ||
journal="American Poetry" | journal="American Poetry" | ||
page_range="114" | page_range="114" | ||
/> | /> | ||
<annotations> | <annotations> | ||
<paragraph keywords=" | |||
<paragraph keywords="zoomorphism, engine, personification, metaphor, sound, oil"> | |||
<poem> | <poem> | ||
What nudity is beautiful as this | What nudity is beautiful as this | ||
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<paragraph keywords="metaphysics, personification | <paragraph keywords="metaphysics, personification"> | ||
<poem> | <poem> | ||
It does not vent its loathing, does not turn | It does not vent its loathing, does not turn | ||
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It bears a deeper malice; lives to earn | It bears a deeper malice; lives to earn | ||
Its master's bread and laughs to see this great | Its master's bread and laughs to see this great | ||
Lord of the earth, who rules but cannot learn | Lord of the earth, who rules but cannot learn, | ||
Become the slave of what his slaves create. | Become the slave of what his slaves create. | ||
</poem> | </poem> |
Latest revision as of 09:43, 17 July 2024
Author | Untermeyer, Louis |
---|---|
Genre | Poetry |
Journal or Book | American Poetry |
Publisher | Hartcourt, Brace and Company |
Year of Publication | 1922 |
Pages | 114 |
Additional information | - |
What nudity is beautiful as this
Obedient monster purring at its toil;
These naked iron muscles dripping oil
And the sure-fingered rods that never miss.
This long and shining flank of metal is
Magic that greasy labor cannot spoil;
While this vast engine that could rend the soil
Conceals its fury with a gentle hiss.
It does not vent its loathing, 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 the slave of what his slaves create.