EXPLORATIONS (VIII)

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(1)

Of the vestal lathe and mecher’s dream,

Of the lazy days and rust’s cream;

Of the words drooping from the machine,

Oh!! The Blue Earth!!

(2)

Of the man with Bengali eloquence,

Equations altered in verse’s presence;

Of the knowledge so deep to love,

Oh!! The Blue Earth!!

(3)

Of the orotund of the shaper’s chime,

Of the humdrum of life’s rhyme;

Of the sweetness in beard’s grace,

Oh!! The Blue Earth!!

(4)

Of the history, forgotten to retell,

Of the labor in lethargy’s veil,

Of the pride that guards,

Oh!! The Blue Earth!!

(5)

Of the genial milling machine’s glee,

Of the dark corners one seeks to see;

Of the clever loves being made,

Oh!! The Blue Earth!!

(6)

Of the sagacious old man,

Of the dark winds who love the swan;

Of the sweets yet to melt,

Oh!! The Blue Earth!!

(7)

Of the heat which impedes the iron,

Of the lover’s tale, a mere bygone;

Of that love who knew its fate,

Oh!! The Blue Earth!!

(8)

Of the soft sweats and baby talks,

Of the kissed mornings and tired walks,

Of the roaming rain and forbidden love,

Oh!! The Blue Earth!!

(9)

Of the surreptitious meetings and petty proxies,

Of decades of drama, the machine sees;

Of the damsel’s loved dirt,

Oh!! The Blue Earth!!

(10)

Of the evanescent kisses and ineluctable love,

Of the dynamics of solid and fluid,

Of theories in practical’s grid,

Oh!! The Blue Earth!!

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