BRAVE iron, brave hammer, from your sound The art of music has her ground; On the anvil thou keep'st time, Thy knick-a-knock is a smith's best chime. Yet thwick-a-thwack, thwick, thwack-a-thwack, thwack, Make our brawny sinews crack: Then pit-a-pat, pat, pit-a-pat, pat, Till thickest bars be beaten flat. We shoe the horses of the sun, Harness the dragons of the moon; Forge Cupid's quiver, bow, and arrows, And our dame's coach that's drawn with sparrows. Till thwick-a-thwack, etc. Jove's roaring cannons and his rammers We beat out with our Lemnian hammers; Mars his gauntlet, helm and spear, And Gorgon shield are all made here. Till thwick-a-thwack, etc. The grate which, shut, the day outbars, Those golden studs which nail the stars, The globe's case and the axle-tree, Who can hammer these but we? Till thwick-a-thwack, etc. A warming-pan to heat earth's bed, Lying i' th' frozen zone half-dead; Hob-nails to serve the man i' th' moon, And sparrowbills to clout Pan's shoon, Whose work but ours? Till thwick-a-thwack, etc. Venus' kettles, pots and pans We make, or else she brawls and bans; Tongs, shovels, andirons have their places, Else she scratches all our faces. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JAMES GARBER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS GENEVIEVE AND ALEXANDRA (2) by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON A PRAYER by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO HIS WINDING-SHEET by ROBERT HERRICK SONNET: ADDRESSED TO HAYDON (2) by JOHN KEATS MODERN LOVE: 47 by GEORGE MEREDITH TO RUSSIA by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER |