It takes fifteen tons of bronze, my friend,
To fill this enormous mold,

The form itself is a work of art,
All the molten metal to hold,

This rotating behemoth will be
Just one of a few impellers,

Moving hundreds of thousands of gallons per minute --
A ship's gigantic propellers,

'Round and 'round, these screws will go,
Like a Buddhist's prayer wheel turning,

Fulton's boat was just a bad dream
Compared to these steam engines burning,

The United States, nineteen fifty-one
May be the last of the huge leviathans,

Since Yankee Doodle went to town
We've seen few oceangoing gargantuas.

by D. Edgar Murray