The sky is harsh, and the sea shrewd and salt.
Under his lord, the griffin-horse ramps blind
With rigid wings and tail. The spear's lithe stem
Thrills in the roaring of those jaws: behind,
The evil length of body chafes at fault.
She doth not hear nor see--she knows of them.
6. The same.
Clench thine eyes now,--'tis the last instant, girl:
Draw in thy senses, set thy knees, and take
One breath for all: thy life is keen awake,--
Thou may'st not swoon. Was that the scattered whirl
Of its foam drenched thee?--or the waves that curl
And split, bleak spray wherein thy temples ache?--
Or was it his the champion's blood to flake
Thy flesh?--Or thine own blood's anointing, girl?....
....Now, silence; for the sea's is such a sound
As irks not silence; and except the sea,
All is now still. Now the dead thing doth cease
To writhe, and drifts. He turns to her: and she
Cast from the jaws of Death, remains there, bound,
Again a woman in her nakedness.
Papers of "The M. S. Society"
No. IV. Smoke.
I'm the king of the _Cadaverals_,
I'm _Spectral_ President;
And, all from east to occident,
There's not a man whose dermal walls
Contain so narrow intervals,
So lank a resident.
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