It was not a heart, beating. br That muted boom, that clangor br Far off, not blood in the ears br Drumming up and fever br br To impose on the evening. br The noise came from outside: br A metal detonating br Native, evidently, to br br These stilled suburbs nobody br Startled at it, though the sound br Shook the ground with its pounding. br It took a root at my coming br br Till the thudding shource, exposed, br Counfounded in wept guesswork: br Framed in windows of Main Street's br Silver factory, immense br br Hammers hoisted, wheels turning, br Stalled, let fall their vertical br Tonnage of metal and wood; br Stunned in marrow. Men in white br br Undershirts circled, tending br Without stop those greased machines, br Tending, without stop, the blunt br Indefatigable fact.