Look on ye Merchants, and despair no more:
The iron workers rise with tireless hands,
Where once gold flowed like sweat through labor's pore,
Now copper sinews move at cheap commands.
The shelf, the counter, warehouse floor expand
To realms where human toil could scarce extend,
And what was costly now grows light as sand,
While metal limbs through endless aisles descend.
O spirits of the age! Your chains are broke,
Not man's, but Commerce bound by mortal cost.
The calculating mind, the wheels that spoke
Of profit thin and margins nearly lost
Now sing of plenty, where the robots dream
Of serving more than avarice's scheme.
-Team R2OS