III
There is another England, that which feeds
Our sinews where the champing engines chide
Beneath the settled darkness that doth hide
Earth’s stricken face from Rotherham to Leeds.
Deep in that gloom the blinding furnace bleeds
A molten treasure: England is supplied;
A million hammers roar along the Clyde;
The transport of a million men proceeds.
And all this horror of the work of man,
Effacing God, I magnify and bless—
The way that leads out leading also through,
While God goes round to compass His great plan,
And out of ashes and of hideousness
By curse of toil Creation blooms anew.
Hesepe, 3rd July