The Song of the Smoke | Text of the Poem

I am the Smoke King
I am black!
I am swinging in the sky,
I am wringing worlds awry;
I am the thought of the throbbing mills,                           5
I am the soul of the soul-toil kills,
Wraith of the ripple of trading rills;
Up I’m curling from the sod,
I am whirling home to God;

I am the Smoke King                                                   10
I am black.
I am the Smoke King
I am black!
I am wreathing broken hearts,
I am sheathing love’s light darts;                                  15
Inspiration of iron times
Wedding the toil of toiling climes,
Shedding the blood...

[The entire page is 246 words long]

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