And when 'twas found completely ground,
O'er wires its pulp was pass'd.
And on and on that rag hath gone,
'Neath cylinders I traced it,
And there it roll'd through heat and cold,
Whilst giant force embraced it.
And I could mark th' electric spark[22]
Gleam like a fairy taper;
And fair and smooth as the brow of youth,
That filthy rag was Paper.