Sisal fiber being transferred from warehouse to mill 60 No. 2 tar house, Plymouth Cordage Company 61 No. 3 mill, Plymouth Cordage Company 62 Preparation room, No. 3 mill, Plymouth Cordage Company 64 Lubricating oil mixing room, Plymouth Cordage Company 65 Formation of sliver on first breaker 66 Reducing size of sliver on preparation machines 67 Draw frame machines 68 Plymouth Cordage Company factory in early days and today 70 Spinning machine of early nineteenth century 72 Modern spinning machine 73 Spinning room, No. 1 mill, Plymouth Cordage Company 74 Spinning room, No. 3 mill, Plymouth Cordage Company 75 Tar storage and handling equipment, Plymouth Cordage Company 76 Tarring of rope yarns 78 Ropewalk manufacturing processes 80 Interior of ropewalk, Plymouth Cordage Company 82 Sixteen-inch towline with eye-splice 83 Lathyarn and tie rope machines, Plymouth Cordage Company 84 Rope-making machinery, Plymouth Cordage Company 87 Removing reel from forming machine 89 Compound laying-machine, four-strand type 90 Shipping platform, Plymouth Cordage Company 92 Part I THE ROPEWALK In that building, long and low, With its windows all a-row, Like the port-holes of a hulk, Human spiders spin and spin, Backward down their threads so thin Dropping, each a hempen bulk. At the end, an open door; Squares of sunshine on the floor Light the long and dusky lane; And the whirring of a wheel, Dull and drowsy, makes me feel All its spokes are in my brain. As the spinners to the end Downward go and reascend, Gleam the long threads in the sun; While within this brain of mine Cobwebs brighter and more fine By the busy wheel are spun. Two fair maidens in a swing, Like white doves upon the wing, First before my vision pass; Laughing, as their gentle hands Closely clasp the twisted strands, At their shadow on the grass. Then a booth of mountebanks, With its smell of tan and planks, And a girl poised high in air On a cord, in spangled dress, With a faded loveliness, And a weary look of care. Then a homestead among farms, And a woman with bare arms Drawing water from a well; As the bucket mounts apace, With it mounts her own fair face, As at some magician’s spell.