Diamond Age

A ragged child in the brass and the steam No name worth keeping, no thread worth the seam Then a book fell open like a door in the dark Not paper, not ink — just a voice and a spark And the page learns your hand Then teaches back your face A lesson made of ash and lace Finding its place The diamond age is made by hand Made by hand Turn the page, start again The diamond age is made by hand Teach the heart to understand The pattern and the counterplan A stolen spark, a borrowed code A world of rules and gowns Where breeding and habit wear the old names down She follows the primer, its manners, its nerve And every hard lesson finds the shape of a word Not born for this, but built to begin Page by page, let the light get in The diamond age is made by hand Made by hand Turn the page, start again The diamond age is made by hand Teach the heart to understand The pattern and the counterplan "I am the Illustrated Primer. Not iron, not ivory, not a perfect machine — Just a human thing kept sharp and keen. A machine to think with, a world awake. A small bright resistance for the coming days." The diamond age is made by hand Made by hand Turn the page, start again The diamond age is made by hand Teach the heart to understand The pattern and the counterplan Made by hand Once upon a time... The page learns you back. You are the design.