[Illustration]

The Poker,
Clanging.
I am the Poker the straight and the strong,
Prone in the fire grate,
Black at the nether end,
Knobby and nebulous.

Fashioned for fight
In the Pit Acherontic:
Many have grappled me,
Poised me and thrust me
Into the glowing,
The flashing and furious
Heart of the fire.
Raked with me, prized with me,
Till on a sudden
Besparked and encircled
With Welsh or with Wallsend,
Shattering, battering
They drew me away.
Others in rivalry,
Thinking to better
The previous performance,
Seized me again;
Pushed with a leverage
Hard on the haft of me,
Till with the shocks
Sank the red fire,