A thunder-piece, a dragon's breath held fast,
A tube of iron, black and grimly cast,
Wherein a subtle sulphurous dust is bound,
To wake the silence with a fearsome sound.
It is a sceptre of a sudden end,
Whose heavy weight a fearful man doth lend
Unto his grasp; a messenger of lead,
That flies unseen, and brings the quick to dead.
By touch of flint or spark from clever wheel,
The sleeping powder doth its rage reveal,
And with a flash that blinds the startled eye,
A little stone projectile takes the sky,
Or, with a dreadful speed and keenest flight,
Doth pierce the flesh and steal away the light.
A deed-doer, small and swift, that holds the power
To change the course of fortune in an hour.
A metal tongue, that speaks with loudest crack,
And leaves behind no easy turning back.
Thus is this artillery, hard and cold,
A thing of power, terrible and bold.
Caption this Meme
