The white for power.
You have hung your home with crimson lamps,
Apples swinging on a tree,
They band like a ring round that tall stone thumb,
They ladder up its sides like the spillings of a plum,
I must climb and pick them all ere our double kingdom come
Where the motors roar like sea.
You have crowned your hall with granite thorns,
Mine stands huge as steam.
It carries all Time like a watch upon its side,