Rhymes of Ironquill

All night the sky was draped in darkness thick;
From rumbling clouds imprisoned lightnings swept;
    Into the printer's stick,
    With energetic click,
The ranks of type into battalions crept,
Which formed brigades while dreaming labor slept;
And ere dawn's crimson pennons were unfurled,
The night-formed columns charged the waking world.

Quoted on September 30, 2011