The Foundation of the Sky-scraper

Ghastly the pit with thousand-candle flares
Sharp as a sword, — white, cold and merciless.
Bared to the world, the rock's swart nakedness, —
Shadows, and mouths of gloom, like dragon's lairs.
Thunder of drills, stiff spurting plumes of steam, —
Shouts and the dip of cranes, the stench of earth, —
Blinded with sweat, men give a vision birth,
Crawling and dim, men build a dreamer's dream.

Clamor of unknown tongues, and hiss of arc,
Clashing and blending; screech of wheel on wheel, —
Naked, a giant's back, tight-muscled, stark,
Glimpse of mighty shoulder, etched in steel.
And over all, above the highest high,
A phantom of fair towers in the sky.
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