Charles Tennyson Turner - Continued lyrics

Did any seer of ancient time forbode This mighty engine, which we daily see Accepting our full harvests, like a god, With clouds about his shoulders--it might be Some poet-husbandman, some lord of verse, Old Hesiod, or the wizard Mantuan, Who catalogued in rich hexameters The rake, the roller, and the mystic van; Or else some priest of Ceres, it might seem, Who witnessed, as he trod the silent fane, The notes and auguries of coming change, Of other ministrants in shrine and grange-- The sweating statue, and her sacred wain Low-booming with the prophecy of steam!