Gyroscope

This admirable gadget, when it is

Wound on a string and spun with steady force,

Maintains its balance on most any smooth

Surface, pleasantly humming as it goes.

It is whirled not on a constant course, but still

Stands in unshivering integrity

For quite some time, meaning nothing perhaps

But being something agreeable to watch,

A silver nearly silence gleaning a still-

ness out of speed, composing unity

From spin, so that its hollow spaces seem

Solids of light, until it wobbles and

Begins to whine, and then with an odd lunge

Eccentric and reckless, it skids away

And drops dead into its own skeleton.