In a factory building there are wheels
There are cranks and pulleys, beltings tight or slack
Some are whirling swiftly, some are turning slowly,
Some are thrusting
forward, some are pulling back;
Some are smooth and silent, some are rough and noisy,
clanking, moving with a jerk;
In a wild confusion, in a seeming chaos,
driving but they do their work.
From the mightiest lever to the tiniest pinion,
All things move
together for the purpose planned;
And behind the working is a mind controlling,
And a force directing,
and a guiding hand.