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The Egg And The Machine Poem

The Egg And The Machine Poem By Robert Frost,

He gave the solid rail a hateful kick.
From far away there came an answering tick,
And then another tick He knew the code
His hate had roused an engme up the road.
He WIshed when he had had the track alone
He had attacked it WIth a club or stone
And bent some raIl wide open hke a switch
So as to wreck the engine in the ditch.
Too late though, now, he had hunself to thank.
Its chck was risIng to a nearer clank.
Here It came breasting like a horse In skirts.
(He stood well back for fear of scalding squirts )
Then for a moment all there was was size
Confusion and a roar that drowned the cries
He raised agamst the gods in the machine.
Then once again the sandbank lay serene.
The traveler’s eye picked up a turtle trail,
Between the dotted feet a streak of tail,
And followed it to where he made out vague
But certain signs of buried turtle’s egg,
And probing with one finger not too rough,
He found suspicious sand, and sure enough,
The pocket of a little turtle mine.
If there was one egg in it there were nine,
Torpedo-like, with shell of gritty leather
All packed in sand to wait the trump together.
‘You’d better not disturb me any more,’
He told the distance, ‘I am armed for war.
The next machine that has the power to pass
Will get tbis plasm in its goggle glass.7

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