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They were held to the land and horses; they were held to the little seas.
They have changed and shaped and welded; they have broken the old tools and made new ones; they are ranging the white scarves of cloudland; they are bumping the sunken bells of the Carthaginians and Phoenicians:
they are handling
the strongest sea
as a thing to be handled.
The earth was a call that mocked; it is belted with wires and meshed with steel; from Pittsburg to Vladivostok is an iron ride on a moving house; from
Jerusalem to Tokyo is a reckoned span; and they talk at night in the storm and salt, the wind and the war.
They have counted the miles to the Sun and Canopus; they have weighed a small blue star that comes in the southeast corner of the sky on a foretold errand.